


The Carrows' Calling

by zigostia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, My First Fanfic, Slow beginning, Torture, slight hinny, very light/background romance, very tiny bit of ninny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 94,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zigostia/pseuds/zigostia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny arrives at Hogwarts, only to see that multiple things have changed, and none of them are for the better. Snape is now Headmaster, setting outrageous new rules, and there are new professors; the Carrow siblings, whose idea of "fun" is most definitely the opposite of it.<br/>Threats, friendship, pain and love—Ginny knew this year would be different.<br/>She didn't expect it to be this different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Changes

“Ready, dear?” Ginny’s mum sniffed in a trembling voice. Though Ginny almost didn’t notice her mother speak—she was too busy glaring at the black-robed Death Eater guards at the entrance, checking the students for their tickets. She turned when she spoke, softly gasping at her mother’s tear-filled eyes. 

“Oh, Mum,” said Ginny, breaking down and pulling her mum in for a tight hug. 

She allowed her to relax, for things to stay that way, for ten seconds, then reluctantly pulled back and grabbed her mother by the hands. 

“Mum. I love you. Stay safe, keep the boys behaved and please—please don’t cry for me. It’ll be very soon until I come back for Christmas. I promise,” said Ginny reassuringly. 

“Oh Ginny… I love you,” Mum whispered, tears trickling down despite Ginny’s words, and pulled Ginny in for an even tighter hug. 

“I love you too, Mum.” Ginny mumbled, wiping her eyes. 

The train whistle rang. Ginny and her mother jumped back at the loud clatter. 

“Oh, Ginny dear, here’s your trunk, and write to me as soon as you get there!” her mother rushed out. She hurried to help Ginny with her trunk. Together they ran to the train entrance, where a Death Eater was waiting impatiently. 

At the entrance of the train, the man asked for her ticket. 

“Watch where you’re going! You’re late. Ticket?” He asked rudely, not even bothering to look at Ginny. 

“I just got my trunk,” Ginny clipped out, just as equally rude. 

She entered the train and hurried down the hall to where they had planned to meet. Luna and Neville were already there. 

After a quick rejoice, the train started to move. Ginny peered out the window, relieved to find her mother still standing there, and waved a last farewell. Her mother caught Ginny’s hand, and she tried to run over to her. 

A Death Eater blocked her mother’s way. The last image she saw of her mother before she left was her hand upraised in a last wave, angling her body as far from the Death Eater but somehow as close to Ginny as possible, tears in her eyes. Ginny waved back, and watched as her mother slowly disappeared from view, the train picking up speed. 

Ginny sighed. _It will be fine_ , she consoled herself. _Christmas would come soon._

-+-+-+- 

“Great welcoming committee. They made me feel really welcome,” Ginny muttered, crossing her arms. 

“Did you run into the same moron?” Luna chirped curiously. 

“Was he wearing black?” asked Ginny, before she could think. 

“No, he was wearing bright pink,” Luna tittered with laughter. 

“They gave us trouble, too. They took away Luna’s Quibbler and told her that if they saw her with it again, she would be banned,” said Neville, ignoring Luna. 

“I think they were warned about us.” said Luna, gazing out the window, though without the usual airiness in her voice. 

“Why?” asked Neville, as if he didn’t already know. 

“Because they know we’re friends with Harry,” pouted Luna. _More than friends at one point_ , thought Ginny darkly. 

“Yeah. They made me open my trunk, and crumpled all my papers,” complained Neville. 

Ginny rolled her eyes. “What, like our parents would let us pack anything other than papers.” 

“Any news about Harry, Ron and Hermione?” asked Luna spontaneously. 

“No, not since the wedding,” Ginny muttered, unconsciously crossing her arms and frowning. 

“But if the Boy Who Lived was caught, wouldn’t You-Know-Who post it all over the place?” suggested Neville hopefully. 

“But what’s the importance in the death of a blood traitor, or a muggle born?” Ginny added with a cold tone in her voice. 

“Ginny,” Luna murmured, placing a hand on her knee. “We can’t think of what it could’ve been, or it may truly happen.” 

“So… do you guys really think he’s been caught?” asked Ginny, true fear leaking into her voice. 

“No. Harry knows what he’s doing, and so does Ron. And plus, Hermione’s with them. With her, they’ll make it out of anything. I know I have,” Neville reassured again. 

“Ginny, Neville’s right. With Hermione with them, they can make it out any tough situation. Without her, they’d be dead by now,” said Luna, the airiness in her voice returning. Ginny laughed without amusement, though her arms uncrossed. 

“What about the Carrows, and Snape?” asked Neville nervously. 

“Oh, them? Dumbledore’s Army, of course,” said Ginny, with an air of confidence. 

Neville bit his lip. “Ginny, what if the original members don’t want in?” 

Then it will be just the three of us,” replied Ginny stubbornly. 

“Yes, but would Dumbledore’s Army now be against the Death Eaters, or the Slytherins? Last time, it was against Umbridge and the Ministry. The Inquisitorial Squad was basically under the Ministry too, and that was made up of Slytherins,” Luna slightly rambled. 

“Good point. And there will be new students and new professors,” said Ginny. 

_And headmasters, too._

“Okay, um, how ‘bout we lay low for a bit and get a taste of the new people. Then we’ll know if we really have to have D.A. up again,” suggested Neville. “But looking at the security here, I think we will.” 

“Yeah. We’ll see if we really need to do something about the professors before we start. And, y’know, for now, I think it should stay between the three of us. I don’t want to get people’s hopes up,” agreed Ginny. 

“OK,” Luna shrugged, finalising the idea. 

The three friends then fell into a troubling silence, all lost in their own thoughts the entire way to Hogwarts. 

-+-+-+- 

Ginny stretched her legs out in front of her, and yawned. The ride in the carriage was restless and bumpy, disrupting her hopes of getting a nap. On the journey, they had made attempts to talk, but it always led to more worrying, so Ginny stopped the chatter and resigned to gazing out the window, much like Luna. 

The train bell clanged once again, signaling the end of their journey. 

The three meandered out of the train, all stretching from the long trip. 

“Neville!” called the familiar voice of Seamus Finnigan. 

Ginny watched as Neville’s head shot up. “Seamus!” he called out, joy clear in his voice. The two boys ran at each other and locked themselves in a hug as if they haven’t seen each other in years. 

“Padma, Parvati!” called out Luna, bouncing on her heels. 

“Luna!” The group of girls ran to each other and hugged. 

Ginny squinted, and saw another figure. Trailing behind them was Lavender. 

“Lavender!” called out Ginny happily. 

“Ginny?” Lavender ran up to embrace her. Ginny smiled, and returned the hug. 

“How was your summer?” asked Lavender, breaking away reluctantly. 

“Fine. Yours?” 

“Good. Mum almost didn’t want me coming back, though, with everything going on,” said Lavender. “Good thing she didn’t change her mind!” 

Seamus’s voice cut into their conversation. Ginny glanced over, seeing them already walking away. 

“Come on, we’ll lose all the good seats!” he shouted. 

“Coming!” Lavender called back. 

“Let’s go,” Lavender said, pulling on Ginny’s arm gently. Ginny quickly followed, and they walked into the Entrance Hall. 

But once Ginny had entered, she knew something was wrong. There wasn’t the usual warm chatter. She couldn’t hear any laughter. And the place felt cold and uninviting, as if the Headmaster didn’t want people coming in. Ginny looked at her friends, startled. From the looks on their faces, they felt the same. _What have they done to Hogwarts?_

As they trailed down the hallway, footsteps echoing off the walls, Ginny could tell there was definitely something wrong. The Great Hall didn’t give off the warm glow and feeling it used to. 

Ginny shivered, but it wasn’t just the cold. 

She noticed her friends’ footsteps slow, and looked to see what was wrong. Her eyes met the cold, unforgiving ones of Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts, killer of Albus Dumbledore. 

_How dare he stand in his place_ , fumed Ginny. 

Seamus leaned in. “Let’s get to a seat before he kills us,” he whispered, not entirely joking. It was then that Ginny realized that they were still standing in the middle of the Great Hall. Ginny hurried after her friends to an empty row of seats. 

As she sat down, Ginny quickly scanned the staff table. 

There was Snape, in the middle, sitting in the Headmaster’s chair, looking as smug as ever. 

Hatred coursed through her body. It felt disrespectful to be sitting under a Headmaster who deserved absolutely no right to replace Dumbledore. 

Of course, no one could. But especially not Snape. 

There was an empty seat to the left of him, and Ginny assumed that, with the new Headmaster, Professor McGonagall would not be Deputy Headmistress anymore. A man, who Ginny thought was Professor Carrow, was sitting on the right side of Snape, symbolising the right hand man. _Great, now’s there two idiots leading the school._

His sister was beside him, smirking. _Nevermind, three._

Professor Sprout was beside the empty seat for Professor McGonagall, with a worried look on her face. Professor Flitwick was beside her, facing the other direction. 

From the corner of her eye, Ginny caught the cold stare of Snape. Ginny quickly looked away, shivering—his eyes seemed to burn ice-cold heat into her. 

She decided to look around, trying to get her mind off Snape. As hard as she tried, Ginny couldn’t hear the quiet hum of chatter around the Great Hall. She couldn’t even feel the warm feeling of home around her. Ginny hated it, and from the looks on the students’ faces around her, she could tell that the rest of them were just as scared. 

Her thoughts were interrupted as the doors of the Great Hall opened, and marched in Professor McGonagall, the first years nervously trailing behind her. They came down the hall and meekly lined up, as Professor McGonagall instructed. She pulled out the Sorting Hat and placed it on the old, rickety stool. 

Ginny listened in anticipation, wondering what kind of song it would sing out this time. 

The hat slowly opened it’s “mouth” as the first-years stared in wonder. With a breath, it began to sing (but perhaps with a more ominous tone than usual, or maybe it was just Ginny’s mind wandering along the worst situations possible.) 

Is it going to be the house of Godric Gryffindor? 

Those who will be brave and reckless forevermore. 

You and Slytherins don’t get along, 

but that is the house where you may belong. 

If not Gryffindor, then perhaps Ravenclaw. 

Doing those amazing spells while others stare in awe. 

With a quick and intelligent brain, 

doing unique magic while others do plain. 

Maybe you’ll be more Hufflepuff, 

Meek but loyal, with lots of love. 

Sweet, modest, and dedicated, 

a lot of them are underestimated. 

Ginny was lost in thought, and tuned out the rest of the song, until a firm, familiar voice pulled her back to reality. 

“When I call your name, you shall place on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” said Professor McGonagall. The first years nodded, and Ginny could almost see them trembling. 

“Abagot, Elizabeth!” 

Ginny felt a pang of sympathy for the girl; it was always the hardest to be sorted first, and it was even harder in times like these. A pink-faced girl with swishing blond braids slowly walked up to the hat, and placed it gingerly on her head. After what seemed like hours, the girl seemingly moving her lips with no sound, the hat shouted: “GRYFFINDOR!” Ginny clapped loudly along with her fellow Gryffindors. At least one thing wasn’t changed; housemates still clapped for each other. 

She saw a few second years welcome the girl into their ranks. Ginny suddenly felt a pull of pity. All these young witches and wizards, and their first year at Hogwarts would be the hardest yet. They wouldn’t be able to enjoy it like she or her brothers did. They would never see Hogwarts as she did. Not now at least. Not with Snape as Headmaster. 

As Ginny was lost in her thoughts once more, the Sorting flew by. Before she knew it, Professor McGonagall had reached the end as she called out: 

“Zimmer, Anthony!” A black-haired, blue-eyed boy walked up confidently to the hat and eagerly jammed it on. The hat just skimmed his head when it shouted, 

“SLYTHERIN!” 

The Slytherin table on the other side clapped and hooted. Anthony walked, again with confidence to the Slytherin table and sat down. _Great. Another Malfoy,_ thought Ginny, seeing the clear resemblance. 

Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and stool and took her place at the staff table, beside Snape. 

Snape had now stood up. He spread out his arms with a blank expression on his face, as if he was brainwashed. Maybe he was, thought Ginny grimly. He addressed the students. 

“Welcome back to Hogwarts. If you have eyes, you can see that I am the new Headmaster. Do not expect me to be as easy on you as Dumbledore. All those grown lazy and undisciplined would be smart enough to change their ways into my expectations, or unnecessary consequences will be severe. 

“Meanwhile, we have some staff changes. Welcome Professor Amycus Carrow, and his sister, Professor Alecto Carrow. They will be teaching Muggle Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts. They will also be in charge of discipline; all Professors will send their detentions to Professor Carrow here.” 

Ginny directed his attention. Amycus Carrow had a hunched back, pale and doughy face, with tiny dark eyes. Even Ginny could see his smug grin. His sister looked a lot like him. The Professor Carrows stood up to acknowledge their arrival. The students and staff clapped, but with a muted excitement. Ginny noticed that a few of the teachers clapped only once or twice, much like Ginny. 

Snape spoke again, “And there will be dementors patrolling all grounds and all entrances in and out of here. All of the entrances.” Snape’s eyes locked with Ginny’s. She quickly looked away, away from his piercing eyes, away from his voice, which seemed to cut into her like a blade. 

“There will also be an earlier curfew. For all students,” Snape said. “By 7:30, I want all students to be in their common rooms. If you are caught by any of the professors here, you will receive detention. As I have said before, this rule applies to all students, all ages, all houses. There will be no exceptions. For anyone.” 

Snape met eyes with every student in the room. Ginny felt that he didn’t need too. His speech was rooted in her mind for all eternity. 

“There will also be no Inter-House Quidditch Championships. But the Inter-House Championship will continue,” added Snape, as though that made it up. _No Quidditch? And an earlier curfew? Bloody Snape. As if you haven’t ruined Hogwarts already._

There were so many downsides to the early curfew. It would be harder to sneak out, with curfew so early, and without Harry’s invisibility cape, Ginny didn’t know how they could do it. 

“And now you may tuck in,” said Snape, and with the Headmaster’s say, the food appeared on the tables. _And where’s the Hogwarts song? We always have a song… until now. Why does Snape have to ruin everything?_

Ginny snapped back to reality by the slight sounds of forks and plates colliding; she hadn’t realized she was hungry. And once again, the hall was silent. Ginny didn’t dare talk; Snape had already singled her out with his eyes once. She didn’t need it again. 

Ginny quickly finished her dinner and hurried to whisper to Neville that she was going to bed. Ginny rushed to the portrait of the Fat Lady and it was only when she got there, that she realised she didn’t know the password. 

An idea buzzed through her head, and Ginny thought that it was worth a try. 

“Hello, may I enter?” Ginny asked politely to the Fat Lady. 

“Do you know the password?” 

“I should, I’m a prefect, Professor McGonagall just didn’t have time to tell me,” Ginny replied, with a false air of importance. 

The Fat Lady narrowed her eyes at Ginny. “You’re that Weasley girl, aren’t you?” asked the Fat Lady. 

Ginny nodded, not sure where this was going. 

“Well, if you could answer some of these questions only the Weasley girl can answer, I’ll consider letting you in,” said the portrait. Ginny once again nodded, not sure what to say. Well, this could’ve went worse, I guess. 

“Let’s begin-” The Fat Lady said, until she was interrupted by a familiar voice. 

“What are you doing, Miss. Weasley?” a firm, no-nonsense voice startled her. Ginny whipped her head around and saw Professor McGonagall standing behind her. 

“Uh, um, Professor—” Ginny stuttered. Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrow. 

“I presume that you don’t know the password?” asked Professor McGonagall. 

“Um, yes. Sorry about that Professor. I just really wanted to unpack my things and go to bed, you know,” Ginny stammered. 

“Yes, yes, of course,” Professor McGonagall sighed. Up close, Ginny realised that she seemed rather tired. There were bags under her eyes and her posture wasn’t at all like usual. It looked like she was holding herself together, as if she had been hurt. 

A thought hit Ginny. A terrible one. 

“Are you hurt, Professor?” asked Ginny timidly. 

Professor McGonagall shot a look at her, and immediately stood up straight, forcing away any expression on her face. 

“No, I’m fine. Why do you ask, Miss. Weasley?” She said with thin lips. 

Ginny knew better than to lie straight to Professor McGonagall’s face. 

“Well, it seemed as if you were hurt,” ventured Ginny. 

“I thank you for your concern, but I am perfectly fine.’ Her tone implied that this would be the end of the discussion. “As you have asked, the password to the common room is “periculum”. Now move along Miss. Weasley, you don’t want to be caught around here at this time.” said Professor McGonagall. 

She left Ginny standing there, staring at the portrait. Ginny wondered why Professor McGonagall had said that: “you don’t want to be caught around here at this time.” 

Then she realised why. Ginny checked her watch (which her mother gave her years ago) and saw that it was 7:15. Fifteen minutes until curfew. 

Ginny quickly spoke the password to the Fat Lady, and hurried in. Once she entered the common room, she felt, again, as if something was wrong. It was like the Great Hall. There was no warm feeling of home. 

There was no one in the common room, either. It slowly dawned on Ginny. 

_Snape_ , Ginny raged, _he did this on purpose. He did this so he could get students in trouble._

All the students still in the Great Hall had to know that curfew was soon. Very soon.


	2. Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny follows through with her plan, unconsciously setting a trap for herself.

_How do I do this?_ wondered Ginny. How could she warn everyone? 

After a moment of pacing in the common room, an idea struck her. She ran over her plan again, and, as she could see no obvious flaw in it, hurried back into the Great Hall. She checked her watch. 7:21. She walked a bit faster. 

Once she entered, she felt a rush of cold air, as if the temperature was based on the feelings of the students. Ginny shivered. She ran back over to her seat beside her friends and began her idea. _Snape can’t stop me now._

“Neville,” Ginny whispered from the corner of her mouth. 

“Yeah?” Neville replied in the same hushed tone, as he saw how discreet Ginny was being. 

“It’s almost curfew. And I mean, really soon—less than ten minutes. Do you think you can pass that down the table? Ask people to let the younger students to go first,” Ginny added. 

Neville simply nodded. He turned and, once he made sure no one was watching, whispered the message to the next person, Parvati. She nodded, and Ginny was relieved to see that she passed it on, and that the person after that did the same. Ginny hoped they would understand. 

She leaned back to the Ravenclaw table, making sure she didn’t go too far, as to looking out of place, and spoke to Luna. 

“Pass it down the table, Luna,” she finished. “Have the younger students leave first.” Luna nodded, eyes wide. She saw Luna pass the message on to Padma, in a slightly excited, hushed voice. 

Ginny then asked Lavender, who was sitting across her, to pass the message on to the Hufflepuffs. 

Slowly, Ginny saw the plan unfold. 

First, the youngest students—first years—stood up and began to leave the Great Hall. Ginny was glad to see that no one tried to disobey (although they all looked a bit surprised and confused.). The placement of the students was staggered to the best of everyone’s ability. 

Next, the second years left, and so on. Soon, the last people in the hall were Ginny, Luna, Neville, Padma, Parvati, Seamus and Lavender. They shared a secret grin, knowing they had succeeded. 

A dark thought passing her mind, Ginny checked her watch. It was 7:29. She opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes drew back to the watch, as it flickered to 7:30. She looked at the rest of the students, horrified. They seemed to understand, as they, too, looked the same. 

Headmaster Snape stood up, and looked at the students with a hawk-like stare. 

“It is curfew. Why aren’t you in your common rooms?” 

No one spoke. Neville looked at his shoes, and his fingers twitched with anxiety and fear. Ginny’s heart sank, but only for a brief moment. _It’s only us. The oldest._ At least they had prevented this from happening to anyone else. 

“No answer? I guess that’s detention for all of you. Detention even before classes start. So disappointing,” drawled Snape, a sneer on his face. His eyes met with all of them, one by one. 

“Wait!” called a voice. Heads turned, including Snape. 

“Severus, I never knew you cared for the students of Hogwarts enough to give them such an early curfew.” said Professor McGonagall quickly. “Funny, though, you killed their headmaster.” 

Ginny saw Snape’s gaze turn from mocking, to sharp and filled with pain. It was only for a millisecond before his jaw clenched, and his expression was back to nonchalance, though—she doubted anyone else had noticed. 

“I never knew you were one for favourites, Minerva,” Snape threw back. It was like his sudden change of expression hadn’t happened at all—Ginny wasn’t even sure if it actually did. 

Professor McGonagall had flinched, but the expression on her face hadn’t changed; it was still as hard as stone. Ginny saw pure determination in her. Merlin's beard, she practically radiated determination. 

“And I never knew you hated Gryffindors,” replied Professor McGonagall sarcastically. 

“Enough! We’re not here to argue,” demanded Snape, not missing a beat, his hands out, a clear indication of silence. 

“I thought you enjoyed arguing with people before you killed them,” Professor McGonagall countered bitterly, ignoring what the Headmaster had just said. 

Snape stiffened at the statement, and this time he couldn’t hide it from anyone. Ginny wondered why he even cared that he killed Dumbledore; and from what Harry had told him, it seemed like Snape hated Dumbledore. 

“They weren’t all eating, you know. I knew this one wasn’t,” said Professor Carrow, stepping forward and pointing at Ginny. He smelt like rotten onions and old socks, and Ginny’s nose reflexively scrunched up. Professor Carrow seemed to radiate an aura of hatred for everyone he ever met. 

“She at least deserves detention. Probably wandered off somewhere and came back,” suggested Professor Carrow hopefully. 

“The only thing that deserves detention is you,” snapped Professor McGonagall. Seems like Ginny wasn’t the only one not liking the new professors. 

“That is final.” Snape said curtly, ending the argument. “Miss. Weasley will serve detention. The others, be thankful it’s not you. Minerva, you will go back to your office and finish the work I gave you. Come speak with me after. Miss.Weasley, you will come with me for the times of your detention.” 

Professor McGonagall stayed rooted on the spot. She looked hesitant for Ginny to leave with Snape, but she seemed glad it wasn’t all of the students. Ginny was, too. 

Snape didn’t say anything, but simply glared at her. Neville gave Ginny a look that said “tell me later.” The other students looked sympathetic, but also relieved. Ginny didn’t feel any anger or bitterness towards that, though; she would probably feel the same. 

Reluctantly, she followed Snape to the Headmaster’s office. 

She heard Professor McGonagall say to the others, “Now move along. Back to your common rooms.” as she followed Snape up the twists and turns to his office. 

_Snape can act like this is his office, but it will forever be Dumbledore’s. The bloody idiot has zero privileges to step his filthy body into the places where Dumbledore’s legacy lives, including Hogwarts,_ thought Ginny angrily. 

Once they got there, Snape spoke the password, too quietly for it to be heard, all the while looking at Ginny through the corner of his eye, making sure she didn’t make a run for it. _He knows me too well. I probably would._

Snape entered first, and Ginny followed slowly. 

He walked quickly to the desk; his robes flapping behind him, making him look more like a bat than ever. Snape sat down at the desk and mechanically folded his hands together in front of him. 

Something about him changed, Ginny noticed. The expression on his face showed reluctance for a moment, but he quickly wiped it away, like a spill on a clean surface. _I’m probably just seeing things. He’s assigned me detention plenty of times before, he wouldn’t be hesitant to do so now._

“Miss. Weasley. What were you doing when you left the Great Hall?” asked Snape. _Why do you care; you’re giving me detention one way or another._

Ginny stuck to her story that she made up in her head while they walked here. 

“I went up to my common room, and realised that I didn’t know the password. I came back to the Great Hall to ask for it,” said Ginny stiffly. 

“Ah. Of course, but Professor McGonagall didn’t tell you?” Snape questioned, instantly noticing the hole in her story. 

“She didn’t have the time to tell me,” replied Ginny, twiddling her thumbs, though she caught herself and folded her hands in her lap instead. 

“Of course,” he said tiredly. “I guess I’ll just tell Professor McGonagall that she will have to be more responsible and keep track of her tasks more from now on,” said Snape smoothly. _Oh, so that’s what he’s doing. He’s going to threaten me with people I care about,_ Ginny thought. _But that’s not going to work. Not anymore._

“No, she probably told me in the prefect letter, but I simply didn’t remember,” Ginny relented. 

“Probably? So, you’re not sure if she told you or not?” 

“I’m sure she told me, but I forgot,” replied Ginny, taking all of the blame now. 

She didn’t want Professor McGonagall to be hurt (even more) because of her. 

Snape raised an eyebrow to Ginny’s response, but didn’t say anything. 

“Your detention will be this Wednesday, at 6:30 with Professor Carrow. Meet him in the Darks Arts room.” said Snape then, turning the subject back to what it was supposed to be. _Dark Arts? What happened to Defense Against the Dark Arts?_ Ginny wondered, but nodded nevertheless. 

“You may leave now, and close the door behind you,” Snape said, dismissing Ginny. Ginny turned her back on Snape and slammed the door shut, channeling her anger without thinking about the consequences. She ran all the way back to the Gryffindor common room; she didn’t want to be caught again, her anger pushing her along. 

Ginny gave the password _(periculum)_ and entered the common room. 

There was a warm gush of air, and at last, she felt at home. Now that there were no professors, the common room was warm with chatter, and the relief of not being caught for curfew. Neville, sitting in the closest armchair, jumped up when Ginny walked in. 

“How did it go?” asked Neville skeptically. 

“Fine,” Ginny sighed. “I have detention Wednesday, 6:30 with Professor Carrow in his room.” she replied. Lavender and Parvati saw her, and came to join them. 

“Are you ok, Ginny?” asked Lavender with a worried expression. 

“Yes. I’m fine.” Ginny repeated. “I think I’m going to go to bed early today, though.” 

They didn’t question her; after all, she had a rough day. But as she walked to the entrance to the dormitories, Ginny could feel the worried stares of her friends piercing into her. She felt an irrational surge of anger. She didn’t want their pity. 

Ginny ran up the steps two at a time, and entered her dormitory. When she walked in, she felt a blast of cold air made her shiver once again; the room was unnaturally dark and chilly. Ginny stepped in, and disappointment and loneliness welled up inside of her. 

She had once shared the dormitory with Katrina Sims and Brooke Vega—both muggle-borns—and Melinda Clark, a half-blood. Her parents decided that she would stay home that year. 

Ginny grabbed her wand and muttered _“Incendio”_ at the fireplace. A fire started to blaze on the wood, sending sparks flying. The room felt warmer by the second, and it was just a bit less lonely. 

As Ginny began to unpack her things, she walked around the room, placing them where they would belong. She was deciding on where to place a wizarding picture of her and Harry, laughing brightly to the camera. Ginny felt a pang of worry hit her heart. Surely, Harry is still out there? 

Harry did break up with her, but only so he could keep her safe. But, Merlin, even before they started dating, she had loved him. And she still does. 

Hermione had suggested her to go date some other people, to take her mind off of Harry. To try something new. Be her heart had always came back to Harry. _Harry, Harry, Harry._ That was all that occupied her mind. 

Ginny decided to not place the picture in her dormitory, in case Death Eaters ever came in. Or the dreaded Carrows. Or even worse, Snape. It was too prized for that to happen. Instead, Ginny tucked it into her bag, where it would be with her at all times. 

When the room finally felt somewhat like home, Ginny brushed her teeth and changed into her pajamas. She tucked herself into bed and lowered the fire to a light glow. Once her head hit the pillow, Ginny fell into a restless slumber with the thoughts that tomorrow would be a very hard day. 

-+-+-+- 

Ginny woke up to the loud chatter of students talking outside her dorm. She burst out of bed and, after getting ready, rushed down to the common room. Professor McGonagall was there, handing out timetables to students. Neville, Lavender, and Parvati had already arrived, and was comparing timetables in a corner. 

Ginny wondered why she didn’t give the timetables out during breakfast, like usual. _Probably because Snape doesn’t want the disturbance._ So much had changed. 

Looking around for other sixth year Gryffindors, Ginny realised for the first time, how little there were. Colin Creevey had stayed, but Ginny had no idea where the hell he went. And as for the other Gryffindors, Edith Catacomb's parents had demanded her to stay home, and Andrew Bridging had long left. It was only Colin and Ginny, and now, it was just her left. 

She went up to Professor McGonagall to get her timetable to get her mind off, and noticed that something was wrong. Professor McGonagall had small bags under eyes that she never had before, and she looked weak and weary. She seemed to have seen Ginny notice that something was wrong, as she immediately wiped all emotion away, just like Snape had the other day. 

Ginny’s mind wandered back to the row that Snape and McGonagall had. A horrid thought took her mind. No, surely they wouldn’t have done that to her. Not even someone as evil as Snape would have done that. 

While Ginny took her timetable, she asked timidly, “Are you alright, Professor?” 

Ginny didn’t think that Professor McGonagall had noticed her, until she replied with, 

“I’m fine, Miss.Weasley. Here’s your timetable, and you should be dressed by now. Breakfast’s about to start,” Professor McGonagall said, in her normal firm voice, (though very much unlike what she looked like.) 

Ginny nodded, smart enough to know not to press any further, and proceeded back to her dormitory. 

She stared down at the Gryffindor symbol. Ginny sighed. Hogwarts was nothing like she had remembered. Nothing was the same, even the tiniest feeling of home didn’t feel anything close to the real feeling, the kind that was always there—until now. 

She needed to fix this. _Hogwarts is my home. And Snape’s not going to take that away from me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and, as usual, please leave a review and/or kudos! Also, does anyone get the story title pun?


	3. Detentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny, going through her classes, realises how much they've changed.

Monday: Breakfast, Potions G&S, Transfiguration G&R, Charms G&H, Lunch, D.A.D.A G&R, Free Period, Muggle Studies G&S, Divination G&H, Free Period, Dinner, Curfew. 

Tuesday: Breakfast, Transfiguration G&S, Charms G&R, D.A.D.A G&H, Lunch, Muggle Studies G&S, Free Period, Divination G&R, Potions G&H, Free Period, Dinner, Curfew. 

Wednesday: Breakfast, Charms G&S, D.A.D.A G&R, Muggle Studies G&H, Lunch, Divination G&S, Free Period, Potions G&R, Transfiguration G&H, Free Period, Dinner, Curfew. 

Thursday: Breakfast, D.A.D.A, G&S Muggle Studies G&R, Divination G&H, Lunch, Potions G&S, Free Period, Transfiguration G&R, Charms G&H, Free Period, Dinner, Curfew. 

Friday: Breakfast, Muggle Studies G&S, Divination G&R, Potions G&H, Lunch, Transfiguration G&S, Free Period, Charms G&R, D.A.D.A G&H, Free Period, Dinner, Curfew, 

She looked down at her timetable. Potions first. _Slughorn’s fine. He doesn’t really care._ She rushed down the stairs to the common room, expecting no one, but was surprised to find Neville, waiting for her. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me, Neville,” she blurted. 

“I didn’t. But I wanted to,” replied Neville. Ginny shrugged. They exited the common room, and together began their way down to the Great Hall. 

“What do you have first?” asked Ginny. 

“Charms, you?” 

“When do you have Defense Against the Dark Arts?” Ginny replied, completely (though unconsciously) ignoring Neville answer. 

“Right before lunch,” Neville spoke. “Why?” 

“I was wondering if you would have him before me. Then you could tell me about his class,” explained Ginny. “I’m wondering what’s he’s like.” _Although, from last night, I think I could tell._

In the short time of their conversation, they had reached the Great Hall. And, once again, Ginny felt the cold and unwelcoming feeling, the same as earlier. 

They entered the Great Hall and sat down at their seats. Again, there was no chatter, just sounds of forks and plates colliding, students eating their second breakfast of the year. Ginny, not wanting to be in the cold freezing room for any longer, she ate her breakfast quickly and told Neville she would be in the common room. 

Right before Ginny left, she scanned the staff table once. Everything seemed normal. _Other than the fact that it’s dead quiet and bloody cold._

Outside, she found herself lost in her thoughts and began to wander the halls. She ran her fingers over the stone walls, avoiding the portraits. Snape never said they couldn’t, and classes hasn’t started yet. 

The clock tower struck 8:30. She hurried back to her dormitory and grabbed the things that she needed for the first block. _Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms,_ Ginny thought, _that’s not too hard._ Though, it took her some time to find Slughorn's classroom, even though she started looking for the class fifteen minutes early. 

As she entered the room, Ginny realized that she was the only Gryffindor in a room filled with Slytherins. Colin hadn’t arrived yet. _Good thing Slughorn likes me._ She grabbed a seat in the back and waited patiently for Professor Slughorn to come. At last, when it seemed like forever, he came through the door. 

“Ah, welcome, welcome back students!” He spread his arms and smiled. “Today we will be starting with a potion that you may already know of. Can anyone name this?” Slughorn gestured to a cauldron on his left. Ginny immediately recognised the black, bubbling, mud-like liquid as Polyjuice Potion. She raised her arm up; but was left unpicked. 

Potions flew past, mostly everything in the lesson was review from last year. And most surprisingly, she didn’t get any jeering from the Slytherins. _Perhaps now they know the dangers of the school._

The minute Potions finished, Ginny rushed out the room and hurried to Transfiguration. Luna would be there, and she had to talk with her. 

McGonagall’s classroom was easy to find, much easier than Slughorn’s, and Ginny wondered why. _Maybe she wants to help her students more._ After yesterday, it seemed more and more likely. 

Ginny entered the Transfiguration classroom and sat down to wait for Luna to come. A few minutes later, she sauntered in. Ginny waved to Luna, indicating that she could sit beside her. Luna hurried over, her blonde hair swinging behind her, and sat down. 

"Hey Luna. How was your first class?” asked Ginny. 

“Good. Charms was fun today. You?” 

“Eh. Potions was fine. When do you have Defense Against the Dark Arts or Muggle Studies?” asked Ginny, the same of which she had asked Neville earlier. 

“I have Muggle Studies right after this and Defense Against the Dark Arts after lunch.” replied Luna. “You?” 

“I have Defense Against the Dark Arts same time as you and Muggle Studies right after.” 

“Oh good. I won’t have to go through the torture on my own,” Luna joked. 

“What do you think they will make me do this Wednesday?” Ginny said, referring to her detention. 

“Oh, probably write lines or clean the classroom without magic. Nothing that’s too hard,” Luna said reassuringly. Yes. Luna is right. They’ll probably make me write lines. Nothing too bad. 

But after seeing Professor McGonagall this morning, she couldn’t help but think otherwise. 

“Tell me about Muggle Studies at lunch,” said Ginny. “I wonder what they’re like.” 

“From yesterday? I can probably tell,” said Luna gloomily. Right then, Professor McGonagall marched in and the class quieted. 

“Alright everyone. Hope you had a relaxing summer. We will be starting today with transfiguring a turtle into a teapot, wordlessly,” said Professor McGonagall. “You have one hour. You may begin.” Professor McGonagall handed out the turtles. Ginny started on her work, slowly but surely, and saw improvement. When she looked beside her, she saw that Luna was almost finished. 

“How do you do it so quickly?” asked Ginny in awe. 

“I dunno. It just speaks to me, as they say,” replied Luna arily, without stopping her work. Ginny looked around her and saw that some of the other Ravenclaws were also having trouble, unlike Luna. 

Professor McGonagall was walking around the desks, helping anyone who needed it. Ginny turned her focus back to her half-turtle-half-teapot. Soon, after of what it seemed like forever, Ginny completed her teapot. She leaned back and sighed in relief. 

“Time’s up! Class, please bring your teapots to my desk and you may leave,” said Professor McGonagall. Ginny scooped up her teacup and placed it on Professor McGonagall’s desk. She told Luna she had to go. 

She rushed out of the room and found her way to Flitwick’s classroom. The class passed quickly, and, as Luna said, it was OK, and soon Ginny was on her way to lunch. 

She ate quickly—her friends were probably still in class—and left the Great Hall. Ginny found herself lost in her own thoughts again and began to wander the halls, like this morning. It still doesn’t feel like home. 

While she was wandering, the school clock tower struck one o’clock. _Damn it! I’ll be late and another detention is the last thing I need._

She hurried to her dormitory, threw down her things and grabbed her books. She rushed to find the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Ginny soon found the classroom by scent, it smelt like Professor Carrow himself; of rotten onions and old socks. The entire class was already there. 

“Miss. Weasley, you are late,” said Professor Carrow, a look of glee on his face. “Detention, come for details after class.” Ginny hurried to her seat beside Luna and glared at Professor Carrow as she sat down. _Great, now I have two detentions._ He began the lesson. 

“Today, you little dingbats, will learn the importance of the Dark Arts,” said Professor Carrow. “And let me set this straight, this is not Defense Against the Darks Arts, but the Dark Arts. You won’t need the Defense Against the Dark Arts if you know Dark Arts. Oh, how much fun it is to Crucio someone! ” The look on his face was pure happiness, as if the idea of torturing someone was the best thing in the world. 

“Are Miss. Carrow’s lessons like this one?” asked Ginny to Luna in a hushed tone. 

“Yes, and dumber. I never knew stupidity ran in genes,” replied Luna with a quiet laugh. Ginny stifled a giggle. The lesson went on, with Professor Carrow rambling on about a bunch of incorrect crap. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Professor Carrow dismissed the class with no homework, which was surprising, because it seemed like he wanted to give the students the hardest time ever. 

Ginny approached Professor Carrow’s desk reluctantly for her detention. 

“Since dear Headmaster Snape gave you detention with me already, you will go with my sister on Thursday, same time,” Professor Carrow said, not even trying to conceal his joy. _Wow, he looks so disappointed to give me detention._

“You may leave,” said Professor Carrow. Ginny rushed to leave his disgusting, dark and stinky classroom. _Or maybe it smells like that because he’s in here._

She slammed the door shut and heard Professor Carrow snicker behind her. Wow, he’s even happier than Snape. She hurried back to her common room; she had a free period. A well needed one, if she did say so herself. 

Ginny gave the password to the Fat Lady and entered the common room. She saw Neville sitting in a nearby armchair and rushed to join him. She dumped her things into the armchair across from him. 

“How was class, Neville?” 

“Fine. Professor Carrow is an idiot. I have never heard anything more stupid to come out of someone’s mouth. Not even Draco’s,” muttered Neville angrily. 

“Agreed. Professor Carrow is a blockhead. I didn’t get anything from him. ‘This is not Defense Against the Dark Arts, it’s the Darks Arts now,’” mimicked Ginny. She sighed. Neville rubbed his eyes. 

“When is your detention again?” 

“Oh yeah. I forget to tell you, I got another detention from Professor Carrow during ‘The Dark Arts’,” complained Ginny. 

“Another detention! Ginny, you ought to be more careful!” 

“Yep. Thursday, same time as the last one,” sighed Ginny. Neville didn’t reply, but stared off into space, in his own world. 

“Neville?” asked Ginny hesitantly. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m going to get my things ready for my next class. See you later?” asked Ginny. 

“Yeah, sure. Go ahead,” Neville replied. Ginny grabbed her bag and rushed up to her dormitory. There, she dropped her current class things and grabbed her Muggle Studies book. She planned to upstage Professor Carrow as much as possible. 

Ginny read as much as possible from her Muggle Studies book, absolutely sure that Professor Carrow wouldn’t teach from it. Ten minutes to three o’clock, Ginny grabbed her Divination book, ran downstairs to the common room and exited, not looking in any direction on her way out. 

Ginny walked in the hallway to the Muggle Studies classroom, taking her sweet time, knowing she wouldn’t be late, and not wanting to get to the classroom any sooner than she needed too. 

Once Ginny got to the the entrance of the classroom, the first thing she noticed was the smell. It smelt worse than the Dark Arts classroom, worse than Snape’s old classroom for Potions, worse than Fred and George's dirty socks. It smelt like foot odor, as if Professor Carrow hadn’t washed her feet in months. The very thought of that repulsed Ginny. It was like stepping into a room filled with roadkill. She almost stepped out of the classroom, but forced herself to keep her pride. 

Ginny wiped all emotions off her face and sat down at the desk farest from the front of the classroom. She set her things on her lap, in case any of the things that the room smelt like went on the desk. Ginny patiently waited for the Slytherins to arrive. She’d hoped that they would be silent and not bother her, but alas, you can’t have everything in the world. The Slytherins walked in rowdy and loud. _Great, this is going to be so much fun._

Ginny ignored the Slytherins as much as possible. Much to her luck, none of her fellow classmates sat next to her, they were all at the front of the classroom. Ginny still didn’t see Colin. Now that she thought of it, she only saw him at the beginning of the day. 

Professor Carrow came striding in, interrupting her thoughts. _Please have this be done with._ Professor Carrow came to a stop at the front of the classroom, leaning on her desk. 

“Ok, today you idiots will start on the reasons that muggles are poison to the wizarding world and all muggle-borns should be charged for stealing magic,” said Professor Carrow, beginning class. _Not this again,_ thought Ginny, who had heard enough of this nonsense from the press. 

“I’m going to hand out this pamphlet for all of you spoiled brats to read and I will tell you a few things about it,” said Professor Carrow. She handed out the papers and Ginny didn’t even glance at it. She guessed that it would be filled with loads and loads of crap about muggles and muggle borns. Ginny was correct when Professor Carrow began to talk about the pamphlet. Ginny quickly tuned out Professor Carrow’s beyond idiotic lesson. _Muggle this, muggle that, this is crap; you're just too stupid to realise that we are all related to muggles and that we do rely on them sometimes!_

It took all of her self control to stop herself from spitting her thoughts out to Professor Carrow's lesson. _Screw her, fumed Ginny. _Screw all of this. Snape. Voldemort. Death Eaters. Ginny raised her hand. Professor Carrow turned around and walked towards her desk in the back.__

 _ _“Miss. Weasley?”__

 _ _

“I can I say something?” asked Ginny, sarcasm dripping from her words. 

“Of course, fire away,” replied Professor Carrow, her voice unbearably sweet. Ginny was instantly reminded of Umbridge. She tried not to barf. 

“But if muggles didn’t exist, we wouldn’t be alive, would we?” objected Ginny. 

“Yes, but we have helped muggles throughout our lives,” replied Professor Carrow, in the same disgustingly sweet tone. 

“Then why would we have to kill them? They do nothing to us, we don’t do anything to them. Then everyone’s happy,” said Ginny. 

“Muggles take up the entire world. While we have to hide our true selves from them. So they don’t grow insane,” snapped Professor Carrow. By now, the entire class was watching the ‘discussion’ between student and teacher. 

“Yes, but it’s not their fault that they were born muggles. Or having weak minds. Or, maybe, you’re the one having the weak mind. The one without a heart— the heartless little brat,” spat Ginny, her anger overtaking her common sense. 

Professor Carrow looked at her in shock. She raised her hand and slapped Ginny square across the face. 

Ginny was so shocked, she fell out of her seat. And the look on Professor Carrow’s face was fear. Why would she be scared? She’s not the one being hit, thought Ginny. 

“Get up, you insolent little jerk!” The professor yelled at Ginny. Ginny crossed her legs and arms and sat on the floor stubbornly. 

“No.” 

“Why you little—” Professor Carrow began. 

“Language, Professor,” Ginny said mockingly. Professor Carrow glared at Ginny. 

“Fine, have what you want! I’m reporting you to Professor McGonagall and she’ll see what to do with you,” said Professor Carrow, mind set on what she was doing. “It wouldn’t be good if Miss. Weasley here got another detention, would it?” Ginny still sat stubbornly on the floor. 

“GO! LEAVE THIS CLASSROOM UNLESS YOU WANT A NICE CRUICO!” yelled Professor Carrow. Ginny continued to sit on the floor; legs and arms crossed. She stuck out her chin defiantly and closed her eyes—she wanted to look calm and collected when she wasn’t. Ginny’s body shook with fear, but Professor Carrow was too absorbed in her anger to notice. _She’s not really going to do it, is she?_

Professor Carrow was breathing heavily and her hair was dangling around her face; it was filled with anger and her dark, endless eyes burned with fire. Ginny stayed where she was, ignoring what Professor Carrow had just said. 

“Fine, a nice Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen up your body,” spat Professor Carrow, still panting from anger. Ginny’s eyes flew open. _Surely she wouldn’t do it,_ thought Ginny. _But then again, she is vile enough to._ As Professor Carrow began to draw her wand and point it at Ginny, the door swung open. 

Ginny’s head whipped around; her flaming red hair lashing in Professor Carrow’s face. Professor Snape stood in the doorway, his robes still settling onto the ground from his trip to the classroom. Ginny was actually relieved to see him for once. 

“What is going on in here—Professor Carrow?” He said, emphasizing his tone on the word ‘Professor’. Professor Carrow seemed to have pulled herself together quickly and replied, 

“A little girl here found it amusing for her to talk back to me.” Ginny’s eyes darted back to Snape. 

“Ah, Miss. Weasley. Yet again we find you breaking rules. Taking the path of the two dunderheads in your family now?” mocked Snape. Ginny couldn’t keep her temper in. 

“At least I have a path to follow. You didn’t. Or did you make your own path in killing people when they’re at their weakest point? And you!” Ginny spat and turned to face Professor Carrow. Might as well. “Only cowards decide to Cruciate under-aged witches.” But to Ginny’s surprise, Professor Carrow’s mouth began to curve into what looked like a smile. 

“Ah, Professor Snape, this young lady has certainly gone crazy. Me? Me? Me decide to torture a lovely young lady like her?” Professor Carrow said in her sickly sweet voice. Ginny thought she saw Snape gulp and blink. 

“Of course, we ought to send her to Madam Pomfrey and have her checked,” Snape said, finalising the statement. Ginny’s jaw dropped and Professor Carrow must’ve noticed. 

“See, look at how shocked she is! We really must get her to the infirmary,” said Professor Carrow, faking concern for Ginny. “I’ll take her there.” 

“No, Alecto, you will not. You will send her Professor McGonagall—after all she is her Head of House—and tell her to take her there. You still have a class to teach,” said Professor Snape firmly. 

“Of course,” replied Professor Carrow, her grin leaving her face. 

“Now move along Miss. Weasley—I do believe you have somewhere to go? And the rest of you! Back to work. I shall leave them with you now, Professor Carrow,” said Professor Snape. As if you were the one teaching. 

Ginny grabbed her bag and rushed out of the room; she didn’t want Snape to catch up to her. Ginny made the many turns to Gryffindor Tower, where Professor McGonagall’s office was. Once Ginny got to the tall, spruce door with a bronze, lion-headed handle, she hesitated. _Should I really be disturb her? Snape will never have to know, and if he does find out, I’ll be the one getting in trouble. Not Professor McGonagall,_ thought Ginny. _But then again, he could blame it on her. And she’d be pretty mad at me if I didn’t tell her what happened._

She finally made her choice, took a deep breath, and raised her hand to knock.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Thank you for reading, and as usual, please leave a review!


	4. Sectumsempra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ginny talks to Professor McGonagall, she notices something about Neville that gets her into a fury.

Ginny firmly knocked thrice on the door and waited nervously for Professor McGonagall to answer. She heard footsteps, and slowly, the the door swung open. 

Professor McGonagall stood in the doorway, illuminated by the fireplace in her office. 

“Pomana, I—” Professor McGonagall paused mid-sentence—clearly, she was expecting someone else. “Miss. Weasley! What a surprise. What brings you to my office?” asked Professor McGonagall politely. 

“Headmaster Snape sent me to your office about my actions,” said Ginny shortly; although she couldn’t help but let some pride leak into her voice. She regretted nothing she’d said. 

“Come in, come in,” the professor ushered, “what happened? Sit down.” Ginny did what she was instructed and settled into a hard backed wooden chair. In front of her was Professor McGonagall’s desk, as neat and tidy as she expected it to be. 

Professor McGonagall slid into the chair behind the desk and clasped her hands together, waiting for Ginny to speak. 

“So, um, I talked back to Professor Carrow during her class,” Ginny said, a little hesitantly. 

“And?” 

“And she got mad at me and—” Ginny paused, unsure if she should she tell Professor McGonagall about the aftermaths. Professor McGonagall looked at Ginny pointedly over her square glasses, and raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes? She got mad at you and…?” Professor McGonagall questioned, pushing her to complete. When no answer came, she stood up and grabbed a small tin container wrapped in tartan patterns. She pushed it towards Ginny. 

“Have a biscuit,” insisted Professor McGonagall. 

Ginny shrugged, and took a biscuit. When Ginny finished, Professor McGonagall continued on. 

“What happened after Professor Carrow became unhappy with your words?” Professor McGonagall said the word ‘Professor’ with disgust, as if she was revolted that she shared a title with her. 

“Um, well.” Ginny trailed off, sucking in a breath. “So, she got really mad at me and couldn’t control her temper. She slapped me.” The words were out of Ginny’s mouth before she knew it. Professor McGonagall stared at her in shock. 

“She _slapped_ you?” 

Ginny simply nodded. Professor McGonagall slumped back into her seat. “Are you OK, Miss. Weasley? Did she hurt you in any other kind of way? What happened after?” Professor McGonagall rambled. 

“I, after she slapped I fell to the ground and, well, we had a little argument and I sat on the floor.” Professor McGonagall tensed up and Ginny quickly corrected herself. “No, no, not like she forced me to sit on the floor, I chose to.” Professor McGonagall visibly relaxed. 

“Then?” she asked. 

“Professor Carrow told me to leave the classroom,” said Ginny. Professor McGonagall leaned against her desk on her elbows, rubbing her temples. She made a hand gesture for ‘go on.’ 

“I refused and she threatened to use the Cruciatus Curse on me,” Ginny’s voice got quieter as she spoke on. Professor McGonagall jumped up from her seat, her hands flat on the desk. 

“What did she do?” asked Professor McGonagall, her voice dangerously quiet. 

“She threatened to use the Cruciatus Curse on me,” Ginny. Professor repeated. McGonagall stared at Ginny with her eyes blazing, a fire of determination. 

“So you had a little spat with Professor Carrow and she threatened you with the Cruciatus Curse?” 

Ginny nodded, wondering if she should tell Professor McGonagall about Headmaster Snape entering the scene. 

“Anything else you have to tell me, Miss. Weasley?” asked Professor McGonagall with an eyebrow raised. 

“Well, after Professor Carrow threatened me with the Cruciatus Curse, Headmaster Snape came in and then Professor Carrow made a huge scene about me being crazy. Then Headmaster Snape sent me to you,” replied Ginny, her voice once again fading as she spoke on. 

“Headmaster Snape sent you to me?” asked Professor McGonagall incredulously. Ginny nodded. Professor McGonagall once again stared at Ginny in shock. She then fell back into her seat and placed her head in her hands. “Of course, of course,” Ginny heard her mutter. 

“Well, Miss. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, sitting up again and adjusting her hat. “Thank you for coming to me, you may leave now. Don’t worry about the door, it’ll close on its own,” Ginny got up from her seat and mumbled a “thank you” to Professor McGonagall. On her way out, Ginny looked back and could’ve sworn she saw the professor give her a small smile. 

Ginny checked her watch once she got out of Professor McGonagall’s office. It was 3:30. She still had half an hour left of her free period. Ginny rushed to the common room, and dropped her Muggle Study things on the floor of her dormitory. The dormitory was dark and cold, just like the Great Hall. _Merlin, I wish things could go back to normal._ Ginny pointed her wand at the dusty cold fireplace and whispered _‘Incendio.’_ Red hot flames burst from Ginny’s wand into the fireplace, crackling brightly; as if they’ve been lit for hours. 

Once the room was warmed up, Ginny grabbed some parchment from her trunk and began to write a letter to her mother. Although, when her quill started to touch the parchment, Ginny paused. She didn’t know what to write. If she wrote too much, her mother would be worried. But if she wrote too little, her mother would be suspicious. She slowly started, in her neatest handwriting: 

_Dear Mum,_

 _I really hope that you’re well. There has been a new Headmaster; Headmaster Snape. There are also two new Professors, Professor Carrows. Brother and sister Death Eaters. Don’t worry Mum, they’re not bad, they’re actually rather fine professors. Better than I thought they would be, at least. The brother teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts and the sister teaches Muggle Studies. Neville, Luna and Lavender are great company. Hogwarts is great, my class are going fine. I hope you and Dad are OK. I’ll see you at Christmas, I promise. Any news about Ron? How is he doing? Give him my wishes to get better soon. I love you._

 _

With all my heart, 

Ginny 

_

Ginny finished the letter with her signature. She felt slightly guilty; she had lied more than once in the letter. To be honest, Ginny would have been delighted to use foul language to describe the Carrows, but, for her mother’s sanity, she had not. 

Ginny rolled up the letter and sealed it. She ran down the hall to the owlery and found an owl that seemed to be trustworthy enough. She tied the letter tightly; not too tight for it to hurt, and the owl soared off into the dark, stormy endless sky. Ginny half heartedly raised her hand in a wave goodbye and whispered a “good luck,” to the owl. She ran back to common room—she didn’t want to be caught by Snape or the Carrows. 

Once she got back to the common room, Ginny saw the familiar silhouette of Neville, asleep in front of the fireplace. Ginny walked over and realized that there was a long, bloody gash on his left hand. It was dripping the bright red liquid over the handrest of armchair. His head was leaned to one side and and his uninjured hand was rested on top of a piece of parchment that Ginny assumed was homework. She gently shook him awake. 

“Wha! Who?” Neville said, waking up. 

“It’s me, Neville.” 

“Oh. Hey,” he said, waving. Just then, Ginny felt a flurry of anger as she noticed Neville’s hand. “What the bloody hell happened to your hand?” _Great, I’m starting to sound like Ronald._

“Oh yeah. That.” 

“Oh yeah, that. That’s all you have to say?” yelled Ginny. “That’s all you have to say, not ‘oh, I really should tell my friend about it!’” 

Neville got up shakily. “Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you—because you didn’t let me!” he complained, annoyed. Neville turned around and began to leave. Ginny grabbed his good arm in a panic. 

“Neville, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to, I—just, it just came to me. I’m sorry, OK? I’m just worried about you” Ginny rushed out. _I can’t do anything right now, can I?_

Neville slowly began his way back to the armchair and collapsed into the pillows, a bit relieved, it seemed. 

“Ok, I’ll start from the beginning. We had Defense Against the Dark Arts—or, I’m sorry, ‘The Dark Arts’ and I talked back. All of his talk about curses and how the 

Cruciatus Curse is _so_ important. He kept on rambling on about how killing people is defense—even for innocent people. Especially muggles,” Neville ranted bitterly. Ginny knew about how Neville’s parents had been tortured to insanity and now are staying in St. Mungo’s. 

“Then?” Ginny probed Neville on. 

“Well, then, I couldn’t contain my temper, because, well, y’know, and he—he used this curse, I didn’t hear it clearly and it left a slash on my hand,” Neville explained in a shaky voice. 

“What did the curse sound like?” asked Ginny; she had an idea of what the curse was. 

“It sounded like Sectumempia, I’m not completely sure.” 

“Was it something like Sectumsempra?” asked Ginny. She’d seen the curse in the textbook Harry had last year. 

“Yeah! It was like that! How did you know?” Neville said with excitement. Ginny shrugged, not sure if she should tell Neville about where she got the curse from. 

“OK, Neville, do you need anything for that?” asked Ginny, changing the subject. 

“Well, no. I’ll just clean it up and wrap it.” 

“Wait, Neville, did you tell Professor McGonagall about it?” asked Ginny; worry was evident in her voice. 

“No, why?” 

“Well,” Ginny began, not sure how she should tell Neville about it. “Well, during Muggle Studies, the oaf—no sorry, Professor Carrow began ‘teaching’ the class about how muggles are stupid and all, and I talked back to her, because honestly, who was she kidding? She got so mad, she slapped me. I fell out of my desk, and fell down to that disgusting, greasy floor—no, really, it was so gross,” Ginny added hastily when Neville began to laugh. 

“Ginny, you never cease to amaze me. You just got slapped across the face by a professor, and all you think about is how gross the floor is?” teased Neville, chuckling. Ginny gave him a glare worthy of McGonagall. But, eventually, she ended up laughing, too. _Merlin, it feels good to laugh!_

“Well, yes. The floor was awful. Snape—forgive me, _Headmaster_ Snape came in and the oaf made a huge scene about how I was ‘crazy’—you should’ve seen her! Remind her to never start a career in acting. Then Headmaster Snape sent me to Professor McGonagall. We talked and she knows about everything that happened,” Ginny continued. 

“Wait, Professor McGonagall knows about everything?” asked Neville, a hint of fear in his voice. Ginny slowly nodded. 

“If Professor McGonagall knows about all of it, wouldn’t she go and protest to Snape? Merlin, she already looks exhausted enough and it’s only the first day!” Neville exclaimed, the fear in his voice clear. 

“Neville, she’ll be fine. Professor McGonagall has a level head and probably wouldn’t tell Snape anything yet. She’ll think through what she does,” Ginny said reassuringly. _I hope,_ thought Ginny; her thoughts wandering back to the time McGonagall ran into the night to defend Hagrid and had gotten struck down by four stunners. 

Neville nodded. He placed his head in his hands. Ginny stared into the fireplace, lost in thought. 

“Ginny?” asked Neville apprehensively. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you really think that this will be the last year of Hogwarts?” Ginny was taken aback. She wasn’t sure how to answer the question. Hogwarts didn’t feel like home; Snape was Headmaster, a war’s coming up. She wasn’t sure. 

“I don’t know Neville. I—really hope not. I’m really not sure,” said Ginny defeated. 

“We should start up D.A. again. We have to save Hogwarts before it’s destroyed. Snape can’t have it. I won’t let him,” Neville said, with a surprising surge of bravery and determination. 

“But Neville, I don’t want people to put themselves in danger because of me!” protested Ginny. 

“Ginny! Don’t you realise! It’s not about you! People are dying out there!” Neville yelled a bit panicky, pointing to the window looking out onto the Quidditch pitch. 

“I know people are dying! I don’t want more people dying because I wanted them to join some club!” Ginny yelled back, in an almost-shaky voice. Their conversation was starting to draw eyes. 

“Ginny, I know, but we have to do something! Otherwise no one else will,” Neville said desperately. 

“Fine. We’ll start D.A up again, but just the three of us. I don’t want anyone risking their lives because of me. Not anymore,” Ginny said with a huff, giving in to Neville’s argument. 

“OK, well, that’s what we decided on earlier anyways,” Neville reminded Ginny with a small smile. “I’ll talk to Luna and we could get out the coins again. Do you still have yours?”. 

“Yep, obviously.” 

“OK, maybe Luna would be able to tweak them to send messages to each other,” suggested Neville, trying to fix the argument. Ginny nodded. She checked her watch. It was 3:55. 

“Oh! So sorry Neville, I have to get to Divination!” said Ginny, jumping out of her chair and rushed to her dormitory. When she looked back, she saw Neville hunched over in his chair. 

She grabbed her books for Divination and hurried to the North Tower. Once she had reached the classroom, it was already filled with Hufflepuffs. She found an empty armchair and table and sat down. Professor Trelawney soon came in with her normal wispy entrance. Ginny thought the entire lesson was a bore and wondered why she even stayed in the subject. 

An agonising hour later, the school clock finally struck 5:00. Ginny was one of the first to rush out of the classroom. She ran down to her dormitory and dropped her things on the floor. Ginny sat on her bed, lost in thoughts until the clock struck 6:00 for dinner. _I need to talk to Luna._ She hurried down to the Great Hall and realised with a grin that the warm buzz of chatter was back. 

When she walked in, Hogwarts, for the first time, felt like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all! Thank you soo much for reading, and please leave a review/kudos! The next chapter will be up Monday, as usual.


	5. Of Carrows and Crucios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the day of her detention, Ginny just can't help but think they won't be normal.  
> Unfortunately, she's absolutely right.

_Author's Note/warning: See the "Graphic Depletion of Torture" up there? Um, yeah, this is where it begins. I'm not gonna make a warning for each section in any chapters with it; and this chapter is basically all torture, so... yep._

Before Ginny knew it, Tuesday came and went and soon it was her second free period that day. The past days were filled with homework, and Ginny now knew why they gave the sixth years’ two free periods. She already had two rolls of parchment for Transfiguration, a dream diary for Divination, and one roll of parchment for Potions, and classes weren’t even over yet. 

Ginny checked her watch; it was 5:55, she had five minutes until her detention. She hurried down (she wanted to meander, but had learned her lesson earlier) to the Defense Against the Dark Arts—no sorry, the Dark Arts—room. 

As Ginny walked into the pungent classroom, she was mildly surprised to find not one, but both of the Carrows, both eagerly turning their heads at Ginny’s entrance. 

“You’re late, Miss. Weasley. I’m disappointed by you. But then again, who isn’t?” They both cackled. 

Ginny scowled. _Late by, what, a minute?_ “Just get on with it already.” 

“Let’s begin—the earlier you start, the earlier you leave; I don’t want you in my classroom.” Mr. Carrow remarked. _Then why is he scolding me for being late._ Ginny already wanted to leave the foul place. 

Mrs. Carrow turned to the door, raising her wand. 

“Insulato!” Ginny recognised the soundproofing spell, although she was curious to know why they would need it for detention. _Like I’d suddenly start screaming._

The Carrows turned to Ginny, a gleeful, menacing expression on their faces. _What’s going on?_

“Crucio!” 

-+-+-+- 

Ginny had a very high pain tolerance. She’d broken her arm once, and barely shed a tear. 

But this made a broken arm seem like a paper cut. 

She screamed, a sound that seemed to tear out of her mouth. Pain, deathly pain, shot down her spine. Her searing skin was being peeled off by the Carrows, who were laughing, , like Ginny’s agony was the best thing in the world. 

She sobbed, and fell down to her knees. Her whole body screamed with protest. 

Everything went black; she could feel, hear, see nothing but pain, so much pain… 

-+-+-+- 

It felt like an eternity. 

When whichever one was casting the spell (Ginny couldn’t tell, she couldn’t tell anything then) finally, finally stopped, Ginny collapsed onto the floor, bones turned to rubber. _I need some Skele-Gro,_ she thought giddily. 

“Now, wasn’t that fun? I think you’ve learned your lesson; you should know better than to mess with us.” 

Ginny, was still panting, spattered across the floor. She was still scatterbrained, but it was already clear to her how much Ginny hated the Carrows. How is it possible to hate someone so much? _You should team up with Umbridge; now that would be an absolute nightmare._

“Oh poor, poor Miss. Weasley. What would your friends think if they saw you lying on the floor in despair? What would your parents think? Where is that famous Gryffindor courage? Isn’t that what they’d say?” 

“Yeah, and we do know that you had a little something with Mr. Potter,” sang Miss. Carrow. 

“Oh yeah, and just a little info for you—we really, really dislike you. Or maybe you could use the word _hate,”_ said Mr. Carrow. 

“Right back atcha’.” Ginny sneered. 

Miss. Carrow frowned. 

“Now, you should be leaving now, I presume? And close the door on the way out.” 

“Don’t you even dare telling people about this,” the other warned. “I don’t think you want another detention, do you? Especially since you already have another one tomorrow.” 

Ginny didn’t say anything. She pulled herself off of the floor, wincing in pain as she stood. She sent out a glare—if looks could kill, they would’ve died a hundred and one times already. 

Limping to the door, Ginny held her head high; her pride was now more wounded than her physical self, and on her way out, she slammed the door so hard, the hinges rattled and wood cracked. 

She stomped away, a flurry of anger, hatred, rage. 

Through that storm, a sliver of sadness and fear rolled down her cheek and splattered on the cold, dark floor of Hogwarts. 

-+-+-+- 

“SHE WHAT?!” 

Ginny flinched and instinctively leaned away. Neville was positively spitting with rage—he was almost as angry as Ginny had ever saw him. Neville’s usual anxious self was gone, replaced with a wild sort of anger. _I knew this was a bad idea…_

“I’m fine, Nev—” 

“Shut up. You are most definitely not fine. A CRUCIO?! That’s not—I can’t even—what the hell—” Neville sputtered, red-faced. “I’m telling McGonagall, she’ll know what to do with those —B*TCHES”— Neville made a move to get off the bed they were sitting on. 

“Neville, no!” Ginny gasped. This was exactly what she had been afraid of. If they told McGonagall, she would protest against the Carrows to Snape, and then she would be hurt because of it. They couldn't afford to lose another Professor. (Not a good one, at least.) 

“Oh YES!” Neville shouted, and jumped off the bed. “In fact, I’ll do it right now!” 

Ginny, out of her panic, jumped forward and tackled Neville. She winced, but was able to hide it. He shouted, and flailed his arms wildly. 

“Will you just listen for a second! If I could, I would tell McGonagall as soon as I can. How could I not! But I can’t. And you need to know why. So shut up and _listen!”_ Ginny said through gritted teeth. Slowly but surely, Neville lowered his arms and sat back down on the bed, arms crossed and scowling. 

“This better be good.” _Oh, it is._

“Ok, Neville. Now, listen. If you went and told McGonagall, she would go protest to Snape. Have you seen what happened to her lately? The exhaustion? Merlin, I don’t even want to know what kind of hell Snape’s putting her through these days. If McGonagall talks to Snape, he’ll kill her, or worse.” Ginny drew in a breath and slumped her shoulders, having finished her venting. 

There was a long pause. 

“So,” Ginny finally said. “Is that a good enough reason for you?” 

Neville sighed. 

“… Fine. But we can’t _not_ do anything about it.” Neville slumped and rubbed his brow. 

Suddenly, Neville’s eyes lit up. “This is why we need Dumbledore’s Army back! If no one will help, we will!” 

It was true. At first, Ginny was skeptical, but after this detention, this was just further evidence that D.A. was needed. If someone didn’t stop this, they’ll continue torturing students like they did to her. 

“Yeah… you’re right.” 

Neville grinned. 

“With one exception.” 

“Shoot, I knew there was gonna be a catch!” Neville sighed dramatically. “State your demand, Your Highness.” 

“Me, you, and Luna. The three of us only. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. No dragging others in. It’s too dangerous. You know that.” Neville’s eyes darkened a bit as he remembered how Ginny got tortured. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Neville grumped a little. 

Ginny smiled. 

“So let’s go get Luna, and Dumbledore’s Army will be back and running!” 

“Watch out, Carrow! Watch your back, Snape! ‘Cause we will destroy you guys, just you wait and see!” 

-+-+-+- 

The next morning, Ginny awoke with a shaking start, her hair plastered to her face, sweating from nightmares of which she couldn’t remember—which was probably for the best. Dread settled in her stomach when she realised she still had yet another detention to go. _What will they do to me?_

She closed her eyes, taking a break from the world. 

“Morning Ginny! Another new day!” 

Luna? Ginny reopened her eyes, blinking; sunshine was flowing into the room. Luna sat at the end of Ginny’s bed, almost touching her feet. Her eyes shone with happiness and a small smile graced her face. _What is Luna doing here? Isn’t she supposed to be in the Ravenclaw common room?_

“How did you get into the Gryffindor common room?” 

“Oh, yeah! Neville told me the password. Rather interesting one too, danger in Latin,” said Luna, almost in a daze. The look on Ginny’s face must have been odd, because Luna continued on. 

“Your common room password, I mean, it’s danger in Latin. Almost as if Hogwarts knows what’s going to happen,” she explained, the last sentence mostly to herself. 

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot!” Luna suddenly said, sitting up straight. She handed Ginny a newspaper. The Quibbler. The headline read, _Harry Potter: Not A Criminal._

Ginny stared in awe. _Who has the guts to write this?_

_Written by Xenophilius Lovegood._

“Merlin's beard! Luna, did your father write this?” asked Ginny, astonished. Luna nodded with a proud smile on her face. Ginny smiled alongside, until she remembered her detention. She really didn’t want to break the happy mood, but she had to tell Luna. She was her best friend. And they would need her for D.A. Ginny tucked the newspaper away in her robe—she would read it later, when she needed a picker-upper. But for now… 

“Um, Luna… I have something to tell you—about my detention last night,” Ginny said apprehensively. Luna nodded brightly, encouraging her to go on. “OK, so for my detention, they didn’t make me write lines or anything like that. The, erm, the Carrows used the Cruciatus Curse on me,” Ginny said, her voice getting softer as she spoke on. 

Luna’s jaw dropped open. 

“They—did—what?” Luna yelled with obvious worry. Ginny hurriedly placed a silencing charm on the door. 

“They used the Cruciatus Curse on me,” Ginny said, her voice becoming more sure. Luna stared out of the window, expression unreadable, pursing her lips in thought. 

“Did you tell Professor McGonagall?” 

“No, and you can’t tell either. Promise me you won’t tell. I’ll tell you why after, but just promise me that you won’t tell her anything,” Ginny said solemnly. Luna nodded, albeit rather reluctantly. 

“Handshake. Promise me.” Luna and Ginny did their secret handshake; they had made it when they’d first met. It seemed childish now, but Ginny needed a true promise from Luna. Not that she breaks her promises. 

“OK, you cannot, cannot, tell Professor McGonagall about this because then she’ll go protest to Snape—” 

“Then Snape will punish her. Yeah, You’re right. She looks like hell these days. Like you!” Luna joked. Ginny laughed, despite the serious topic. 

“Alright… but tell me if you need anything; I’m here for you, okay?” Luna said gently. Ginny nodded. She had to pull herself together, she thought, as she began to get out of bed. She wobbled a bit and Luna grabbed her hand. 

“I’m here for you, OK Ginny?” Luna repeated gently. “You don’t have to do everything on your own,” she reminded. _Don’t worry,_ Ginny lectured herself. _Luna’s with you. You’ll be fine._

As Ginny walked out of her dorm, she checked her schedule, and her heart sank. Professor Carrow. Then, his sister. _Merlin, why must this happen to me?_ Her mind flashed to yesterday, the agony, the taunting. _“Where is that famous Gryffindor courage?”_

Her jaw set. _It’s right here._ She had to be strong. She could do this. Ginny held her head high and walked into the classroom. 

Almost immediately, the smell assaulted her nose. Ginny continued walking to her seat, ignoring the odor and the horrible memories it brought back. 

Mr. Carrow’s face brightened as he noticed Ginny stride in. His mouth curled into a nasty grin. 

“Good morning, Miss. Weasley. Did you sleep well?” He asked in a sickly-sweet voice. _Jeez, just go marry Umbridge already._

Ginny growled. It took all her willpower not to lash out at him. Instead, she answered: 

“I slept like a hippogriff baby, Professor Carrow. Thank you for asking,” using the same voice he did. 

Ginny noticed Professor Carrow frown, as if wondering how Ginny could have slept at all. _He obviously doesn’t have the brain cells to know I’m being sarcastic._ Ginny turned away from him and started towards her seat. _Great. Slytherins._ Thankfully, she didn’t get any jeering. Probably because she looked like death. 

Good thing she does, too. If Ginny had gotten any more trouble, she was going to snap. 

The class went on, with the same old useless crap, and Ginny was on the verge of dozing off, when— 

“The Cruciatus Curse. One of the Unforgivable Curses. Can anyone tell me what this curse does?” Ginny’s head snapped up at 'Cruciatus Curse', still terrified of that very word. 

She realised, with a burst of anger, that Professor Carrow was looking specifically at Ginny, noting her reaction. He looked especially pleased at Ginny’s fear. 

Ginny’s will hardened. She wasn’t going to let him play her like a pawn. She raised her hand. 

“Miss. Weasley?” Mr. Carrow asked, in more of a confused manner than actually calling on her. Nevertheless, Ginny answered: 

“The Crucio, also known as the Cruciatus Curse, is a tool of the Dark Arts and one of the three Unforgivable Curses. It is one of the most powerful and sinister spells known to wizardkind. When cast successfully, the curse inflicts intense, excruciating pain on the victim.” Ginny stated. “Believe me, I know.” _Wow, I’m starting to sound like Hermione._

Someone clapped and whistled, but stopped when Professor Carrow glared. He looked surprised, but tried to compose himself. 

“Yes, of course, Miss. Weasley. _You_ would certainly know.” 

_Normally, Gryffindor would’ve gotten at least five points for that. But with the Carrows, apparently not._ God, she hated them so much, it was becoming numb. 

Much sooner than Ginny had expected (surprisingly), the clock struck 12:00 for lunch. Ginny ran out of the disgusting classroom as fast as she could without limping to the common room. She dumped her things onto her bed and rushed down to the Great Hall. Once again, the warm buzz of chatter was there and it felt warm and cozy. Ginny found her friends waving to her; saving her a seat. She sat down beside Lavender. She saw Luna quietly slip to the Gryffindor table and Ginny acknowledged her with a nod and a smile. 

Ginny turned her head to Lavender. “How was your day, Lav?” 

“Great, but probably only because I didn’t have Defense Against the Dark—sorry, my mistake, the Dark Arts. _The Unforgivable Curses are great ways of Dark Arts, and plus, you can defend yourself!”_ Lavender mimicked. “Why don’t you try defending yourself from stupidity?” Ginny laughed. 

Muggle Studies was just as bad. Miss. Carrow smiled politely when she saw her, but there was evil glee in her disgusting dark eyes. Ginny smiled back with rage and a hint of amusement in her own. _Well, at least Luna’s here. Remember, Ginny, you don’t have to do everything by yourself. You’re friends are here for you._

At least, for now. 

+-+-+ 

Standing in front of the Muggle Studies door, Ginny shivered with fear. _Get a grip!_ she scolded herself. _You’ve faced the Cruciatus Curse. You will not back down!_

Even so, Ginny still shook with the terror of whatever lay beyond that door. She took a deep breath, clenched her teeth, and twisted the doorknob. 

The Carrows stood together, wearing matching malevolent grins. 

“Well, well, well, look who’s here.” 

“At least she isn’t late this time. Learned your lesson, haven’t you, you little brat?” 

Never, Ginny thought, hatred seeping through her eyes. She forced herself to meet their gazes. 

“Now, let’s not waste any more time. This’ll be fun.” Ginny shivered at the word fun, but forced her stare not to waver. _I can’t show any fear._

Mr. Carrow waved his wand at the door, just like last time. _“Insulato!”_

Next, Miss. Carrow looked at Ginny, a menacing grin on her face. She raised her wand. 

Ginny closed her eyes, bracing herself for the pain, the agony. But nothing came. She opened her eyes. 

Or at least tried to. 

Her eyes were glued shut. There was a little voice in the back of her head telling her to keep her arms at her side, and she couldn’t resist. Ginny struggled to move her arms. Nothing. Slowly, it dawned on her. _Imperious._

Ginny could hear the Carrows, cackling at Ginny’s struggle. Ginny mentally snarled, and beat against the strong, imaginary chains holding her in place. _How could Harry resist this?_

No matter how hard she tried, how hard she struggled, the chains were unmovable. It was partially from her panic of which her inability to fight emitted, but the knowledge of that only drove it further. Eventually, Ginny collapsed (not really, of course), and braced herself for whatever would happen. 

After a couple seconds, Ginny felt it. Slowly, the little voice whispered for her arms to be raised. Her legs moved in a robotic manner over to the Professor’s desk. Ginny’s eyes opened. Her arms were opening the bottom drawer. 

Ginny’s eyes widened. _No, please no!_

A dagger. Silver and lethal, it gleamed in the light of the setting sun. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Ginny grabbed it with her left hand. _No! Stop!_ She struggled, kicked, screamed; but it was all in her head. Nothing broke through the chains that bound her. 

Her arm lowered onto her right hand. The deathly-sharp blade sliced into her open palm. Blood dribbled out, and splattered onto the mahogany desk below. 

In her prison, Ginny hissed with pain. _At least the Cruciatus Curse did me some good. Now my pain tolerance is so much higher._ But nevertheless, Ginny screamed when the blade, suddenly, dropped down and stabbed her sharply in the right arm. Blood poured out of her fresh open wounds. 

And it continued. Cut after stab, it continued. To the point of when Ginny’s arm seemed numb; she had gotten used to it. To the point of fainting. 

But just when Ginny was about to fall, just when she was going to drop into that deep dark pit of unconsciousness, it stopped. But the pain didn’t. Oh, not at all. Now, with the spell gone, the pain seemed to double in agony, the blood seemed to flow even faster. How? Ginny thought, as she collapsed on the blood-stained floor. How could someone be so cruel? 

“Now, wasn’t that fun?” Mr. Carrow’s voice pierced through Ginny’s muddled mind. 

“Don’t—ever—mess—with—us—again.” Miss. Carrow hissed. “Got it, you brat?” 

Tears of anger and pain rolled down Ginny’s face and dripped onto the wooden desk, washing away some of the blood. She tried to stand up, but hissed with pain as the blood flow, which had finally shown signs of slowing, started back up again. 

“I… hate… you…” Ginny struggled to get the words out. 

“Right back atcha’,” Miss. Carrow sneered, mocking Ginny. It was funny, how that seemed to sting more than her physical wounds. 

Right there and then, Ginny felt herself falling into a black pit of nothingness. 

+=+=+ 

Severus walked down the long hallway, checking for any students who might have decided to sneak out. Ungrateful brats. He longed to reveal his actual intentions, had tethered on the edge of just that many times—but no. He couldn’t. Not after what Albus had to do. 

Wandering along the seemingly abandoned hallway, Severus’s mind wandered. Where was Potter? And his little followers? Severus sneered. _Not that I’m worried._ If more than anything, he wanted them to struggle. Whatever doesn’t kill you, whatever forces you to stand your ground and fight, only makes you stronger. _Believe me, I know._

“Oi!” A startled voice jerked him back to reality. Standing in front of him were the Carrow siblings. An idiotic pair. _They have less brain cells than an overgrown mountain troll. Not to mention their utter stink._ He could barely stand to look at them. 

“What are you doing outside of your office? Curfew isn’t just for students. I am the only exception.” Severus said coldly, lying easily. 

The Carrows looked at each other nervously. Clearly, they didn’t understand the rules at all. Miss. Carrow twiddled her fingers. Finally, she spoke. 

“We were just, erm, hungry?” _Hungry, ha. I saw you gobble down four plates of chicken._

Mr. Carrow picked up immediately. 

“Ah, yes!” he stuttered. “We were hungry. Had a small dinner, y’know.” he laughed nervously, eyes darting around Snape, every part of him looking like he wanted to escape. Honestly, they lie worse than the students. 

“Well, _Amycus,_ if that's the case, you should’ve eaten more. No exceptions, remember?” 

“Ah, yes! Of course, of course! We’ll be getting back to our office now, we don’t want to waste any more of your time escorting us back.” Mr. Carrow looked at his sister meaningfully. 

“Hm?... Oh! Yes, yes! Let us go back to our separate offices now, no need to escort us.” Miss Carrow repeated. 

Severus mentally rolled his eyes. Idiots. He would expose them and jeer, but they seemed to be hiding something important, something Severus needed to know. Especially now, he thought, knowing that Miss. Weasley had detention with them tonight. He put on a sweet voice. 

“Hmm… maybe just this once.” The Carrows looked at each other, stunned. The sister was the first to respond. 

“Thank you, Headmaster! We’ll be on our way now, we’ll be back in just a minute, thank you!” 

As they hurried off, Snape pointed his wand in their direction and muttered _Audire_ —an eavesdropping spell he himself made up. The Carrows’ voice rang out, clear as a bell. They seemed to be arguing. 

“I’m telling you, it’s too risky! Someone will find out!” a female voice snapped. 

“Oh, shut up. It’s just one night.” 

“Easy for you to say, it’s in my office, not yours.” 

“But…”—a yawn—“I’m too tired to heal a body. And who’s gonna notice if she’s gone for _one_ night?” 

A long pause. Then, a reluctant female voice; Miss. Carrow, answered. 

“Hmm… fine.” 

Snape cut off the spell, knowing enough to be alarmed, and started towards Mr. Carrow’s door, but not before muttering another spell. 

_Zigostia_ —a spell he made himself, one that made whoever the spell was directed to get hopelessly lost for at least fifteen minutes, depending on their wit. With those idiots, probably a couple of hours, at the very least. 

Severus silently strode towards Professor Carrow’s office, his robes swishing. The door was locked, but he easily opened it with _Alohomora_ (didn’t those idiots think of a spell to prevent doors from it?) 

As he opened the door, Severus couldn’t help but suck in a breath. 

Professor Carrow’s desk was stained with blood, fresh blood, not completely dried. Lying in the middle of the disgusting, dark, stone floor, a silver dagger was covered with blood. The usually putrid smell of the room was diminished with a musky, coppery tang. It looked like a murder scene. 

Severus’s eyes wandered over to the trail of blood, hastily wiped off, leading to the closet. _Cowards._ He walked over to it, and with another _Alohomora_ —opened the closet. 

Ginny, her blazing ginger hair falling over her face, spilled out. Her right arm was covered with barely scabbed-over blood. 

_Sectumsempra_ was his first thought. It wasn't like it would be the first time. But then, his eyes flicked back to the dagger, discarded on the floor. And after a minute— _Imperious. Definitely Imperious._

It took him a minute to think of a plan. _Minerva must never know about this. It’s already my fault that she looks like hell these days._

He waved his wand over Ginny’s arm and muttered _Tergio._ The blood on Ginny’s arm slowly disappeared, but the cuts remained. 

Her arm was peppered with cuts and stabs. So many. Snape’s hand slowly curled into a fist. I'll admit, punishing students is somewhat enjoyable. But this… this is too much. 

Ginny’s fingers twitched. Severus’s eyes darted over to her face; her eyelids were fluttering. Slowly, with surprising gentleness, he brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. 

Suddenly, with a surge of affection, Severus swooped down and planted a light kiss on Ginny’s forehead. 

He shook his head slightly, and leaned away. _What am I doing?_

“Come on,” he mumbled, picking Ginny up with almost no effort. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick BTW—I don't, in any way, ship Snape and Ginny—ew. It's just like motherly (fatherly?) affection, 'kay?  
> Anyways, this was quite a long chapter! Sorry not sorry for all the torture.  
> P.S. This is where our profile name came to be! It doesn't mean anything, per say—just a cool little word I made up.  
> Pleaseeeee leave a review!


	6. Recovery and Rubeus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny takes on a daring task involving Hagrid.

“Ginny? Ginny, can you hear me?” 

Ginny groaned. Her head was throbbing. Her arm felt like it had been through a wood chipper. But still, her eyelids fluttered open, to see a very concerned Luna, Lavender, and Neville hovering over her. 

Luna broke into a relieved smile. Lavender let out a huge breath. Neville whooped. 

Ginny tried to smile and wave, but winced as pain shot through her right arm. She saw her friends’ smiles falter a bit as they noticed Ginny’s pain. 

“Okay, what the hell happened? First the Cruciatus Curse, then this. What did the Carrows do this time?” Neville questioned, a bit angrily. Ginny felt the corners of her lips lift up a bit at his concern. 

“I’m fine, Neville.” 

“That’s what you said last time. I’m not believing it.” Neville crossed his arms and turned sideways away from Ginny. 

“Seriously. I’ve been _Crucio-ed_ before. You think some cuts can kill me?” 

“Some cuts? Your arm was bleeding for hours!” Neville shot back. His arms came out of their crossed position and he made wild hand gestures. 

“Um, hello? we’re here too, Ginny!” Lavender said, breaking their argument. 

“And really, what happened?” said Luna softly. Ginny sighed. She propped herself up in bed with only her left hand, not wanting to hurt her right one. 

“Okay, so I went to Professor Carrow’s classroom, for my detention. They were both there, again. As usual, one of them cast a soundproofing spell. I thought they would Crucio me again,” Neville growled at that. “But they didn’t. And then I realized I couldn’t move.” 

_“Imperious,”_ Luna whispered in a hushed tone. Ginny nodded, and Lavender’s eyes widened. 

“Exactly. And I tried to fight it, but it was impossible. They made me open a drawer and… and I pulled out a dagger.” Ginny’s voice wavered slightly. Neville clenched his jaw. She forced herself to continue. 

“And… they made me cut myself. You know. And after they stopped, I fainted.” Ginny closed her eyes, still being able to feel the pain in her arm. 

“… And then? How did you get here?” Lavender asked hesitantly, her fingers twisting with one another. 

“That’s the thing. I have no idea. I fainted in Professor Carrow’s classroom, and when I woke up, I was here.” Neville looked skeptical. He should be, I am too. 

“Do you have any idea? Any little hints?” 

Ginny dug into her memories, thinking hard. Then, a memory lit up like a candle in the night sky; she remembered. 

“I… remember something. Not much. But it’s something. I remember drifting into consciousness, just for a minute. I think… I felt someone brushing my hair back. And…” Ginny searched her mind furiously. “I think whoever took me here… they gave me a kiss on the head. ” Ginny touched her her forehead with her left hand, deep in thought. 

Luna tilted her head. 

“Well, that person must have taken you here, then. Can you remember anything else? Maybe what they looked like, or their voice?” With that, Ginny searched her thoughts, and found a spark of memory. 

“I think… I think it was a man. He said something after he kissed me on the forehead.” Ginny frantically rummaged through her muddled memories of that night. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember what he said.” 

“That’s okay.” Lavender reassured. “Now we know it was a male. That narrows it down.” 

“Time’s up!” said Madam Pomfrey, sliding open the curtain and poking her head in. “Time for you to go, now. I’m sorry, doctor’s orders. But she’ll be back to healthy in no time, don’t you worry.” They all stood up, but looked at Ginny reluctantly. She smiled. 

“I’ll be fine. I heal fast.” her friends nodded and slowly shuffled towards the curtain. On their way out, Neville looked back and gave Ginny a thumbs-up. Ginny, with her left hand, gave him one back. She felt herself grinning. 

+=+=+ 

Ginny stood in front of the door on the battered mud hut. The sun shone brightly in the sky. She didn’t want to drag Hagrid into all this, but… she needed help. The clinking of the bottles of firewhiskey she carried only added to her guilt. _You’re a prefect, Ginny!_ Ginny heard Hermione’s voice hiss in her mind. _You can do it!_

She really didn’t want to do this, but both Luna and Neville agreed that this was the best way to learn something, anything. Hagrid is a vault of secrets, and alcohol is the key to opening it. 

A week had already passed since Ginny’s detention, and the Carrows’ classes were getting worse. They constantly failed students, didn’t give out any points to anyone, and overall, they didn’t even learn anything. If this went on, they would all fail. _But failing wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen now_. 

And with that reminder, Ginny made up her mind. She knocked on the door. 

“Err… gimme a second! Just gotta, um… put on some pants…” Ginny smiled at that gruff voice. Hagrid used to be the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, but ever since Snape had become Headmaster, he had been banned from the school, and the subject had been gone ever since. 

The door creaked open, and Hagrid (thankfully with pants on) beamed at the sight of Ginny. 

“Aye! Hello Ginny! How ya doin’?” he reached down and patted Ginny’s head affectionately. 

“I’m great, Hagrid.” Ginny assumed Hagrid didn’t know about her detentions, and didn’t want to tell him either. _I don’t want to make anyone else worry about me. And I’m fine anyways._

“Come in, come in!” Hagrid shouted. Ginny followed him into the hut. 

The first thought that came to Ginny’s mind was home. Hagrid’s hut smelt like fresh pumpkins and apple pies. On the table that sat in the middle of the single-roomed house was two rock cakes. I hope I won’t have to eat those. Hagrid’s hut felt more like home than the entire Hogwarts, combined. The large man’s voice dragged Ginny out of her thoughts and back to reality. 

“Oh, and is that…” Hagrid mumbled mostly to himself, catching sight of the firewhiskey Ginny carried. Ginny brought the three bottles out, pushing away the guilt gnawing at her stomach. 

Hagrid’s eyes brightened. 

“Ah! Firewhiskey, I was just about to go get a bottle, but look at you, you already brought some! Thanks, Ginny! Come on now…” Hagrid hustled over to the table and placed two glasses on it. “Care for a glass?” 

Ginny sat down beside the table, and noticed that before she responded, Hagrid was already pouring her a glass. As Hagrid raised his cup, Ginny followed suit, and sent a silent thanks to Neville for predicting that this would happen. As Hagrid drank, Ginny muttered Evanesco, and the firewhiskey slowly drained itself. 

Her guilt was almost unbearable now; Hagrid was completely oblivious to Ginny’s plan, as he filled himself glass after glass, as Ginny muttered incantation after incantation. 

“So, er, Ginny. What brings you here again?” Hagrid asked, words slurring. Ginny forced down her guilt. 

“I wanted to talk about Hogwarts.” Hagrid’s eyes darkened slightly. 

“Ah… ‘Ogwarts. A fine school, if not for those, er… Carrows?” Hagrid slurred, on the second bottle already. 

So on they discussed. in every direction, every topic Ginny could think of. The teachers, the subjects, the students. Luna had warned her not to go too far until Hagrid seemed completely drunk, and at this point, when Hagrid was sobbing over a student who had apparently gotten a Dreadful (“Oh, the sorrow! Poor kid!”), Ginny thought it was time. 

“So, Hagrid…” Ginny ventured carefully. “When was the last time you went into Headmaster Snape’s office?” 

“Oh…. a while ago, probably a few months, with a Gryffindor kid… didn’t welcome us. Eh, don’t know why Snape hates Gryffindors so much… has their sword in his office…” Ginny, who had been absentmindedly nodding, suddenly looked up, alert. Hagrid didn’t seem to notice his little slip, as he continued talking. “Doesn’t really make sense, if ya think about it. Should belong to McGonagall…” 

_What?_ Ginny thought, anger starting to grow. _Why does Snape have our sword?_

Not noticing her anger, Hagrid continued talking. “Asked him ‘bout it once… wasn’t pretty…” Ginny got up and handed her seemingly empty glass back to Hagrid. 

“Well, Hagrid, I need to get back to class. Thanks for the drink!” Ginny said cheerfully. It was a Saturday. Hagrid looked up blearily, with drooping eyes. 

“Oh… OK. ‘ee you soon. ‘ave a nice time in class!” Hagrid waved goodbye to Ginny, then slumped onto the table; fast asleep and snoring. Ginny rushed out of the door and closed it with a quiet click. Ginny leaned against the wall. Finally, that’s done and over with, thought Ginny with relief. A feeling of guilt washed over her. _Ugh, why did I have to do that? Couldn’t it have been Luna or something? _Ginny ran up the steps of the castle and hurried up the twists and turns to the Gryffindor common room. She gave the Fat Lady the password and rushed in. Neville was there to greet her. He looked up eagerly.__

 _ _“Hey Ginny! Did you get anything?”__

 _ _

“Yep! The last time Hagrid was in Snape’s office, he saw the Sword of Gryffindor in there! Then, he told me that Snape shouldn’t have it! He said that it should belong to McGonagall!” Ginny exclaimed. Neville’s eyes widened. 

“The Sword of Gryffindor? Hell no! He shouldn’t have it!” Ginny nodded angrily. “We should confront him.” 

“Wait, no!” Ginny said. “Hagrid said he asked, but it ‘wasn’t pretty’. We need to think this through.” 

“Well, then let’s just steal it! Snape doesn’t deserve it. We’ll steal it, and present it to McGonagall. We won’t get in trouble; McGonagall’s supposed to have the sword.” 

“When you put it like that, yeah…” Ginny pondered. “Okay, let’s do it. But with Luna, right?” 

“Of course. And we gotta plan this through, so nothing goes wrong. Backup plans, too.” 

“Jeez, you’re starting to sound like Hermione.” 

+=+=+ 

That night, Luna and Neville met Ginny in her dorm. 

“Okay, so we need to steal the sword,” Luna concluded, having been told about Ginny’s discussion with Hagrid. Ginny nodded. 

“Yep. And we need a plan.” Neville seemed to be pondering something. He seemed to make up his mind. “We need more people.” Ginny rolled her eyes, annoyed. 

“I told you, Neville. It’s too dangerous. Even you agreed.” 

“Yeah, but stealing the sword from Snape’s office, just the three of us? We don’t stand a chance.” 

“Well, maybe we would, if you would listen and do what you’re asked for once! I don’t want anyone else putting themselves in danger for me!” 

"Why don’t you stop trying to do everything yourself! We’re trying to help you here!” Neville countered, voice laced with anger, concern and a hint of fear. Luna looked back and forth between the two of them nervously. 

“Look, I don’t want to upset you… but maybe we should have more people. Neville’s right, we can’t steal the sword if there’s only three people.” Neville looked at Ginny triumphantly. 

Maybe it was the stress, the detentions, the anger, or all of that, but Ginny snapped. The anger rushed up in her and her mouth acted quicker than her mind. She stood up quickly, knocking over a pile of clothes on her bed. 

“You know what? If you’re going to have more people… you won’t need me anymore. I quit.” 

As Luna gasped and Neville gaped, Ginny turned and stormed out of her dorm, away from her friends. 

+=+=+ 

The next few days crawled by, agonizing slow. Ginny was so angry, she barely noticed any of the Carrows’ jeering. She barely raised her hand in class, and she ate lunch by herself. 

Eventually, after a few days, she gave in. Loneliness sneaked in like a swarm of mice, until she couldn’t bear it, just couldn’t ignore it anymore. But she still couldn’t talk to Neville or Luna, so she wrote a note: 

_Dear Neville and Luna,_

 _I’m sorry for trying to quit. I’m really stressed these days. Please forgive me. Meet me in my dorm tonight._

 _

Ginny

_

She slipped it in Neville’s book bag, trusting he’ll find it and share it with Luna. 

That night, she waited. And waited. Until the clock struck eleven, not even a shadow came. _Merlin, please forgive me! I’ll allow more people, please!_ And as if the prayer was heard, Ginny heard a rustling. Then, Luna poked her head in. 

“Hi. Sorry we’re late. Neville fell asleep.” 

+=+=+ 

After fifteen minutes of persistent arguing, Neville finally relented. 

“Okay, okay, fine! We’ll steal the sword before we recruit the members! Happy now? Wow, you’re stubborn!” Neville said, throwing his hands up in the air, exasperated. Ginny grinned. 

“I am not. I’m just always right.”

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for this week! If you like this story, please leave a comment... we are deprived!


	7. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny, Neville, and Luna continue in their D.A. things. McGonagall gets into a cat fight (sorry).

The next few weeks flew by as Ginny, Luna and Neville continued to plan their stealing of the Sword. They spend the weeks planning in either Ginny’s or Neville’s dormitory—Neville had to levitate himself up the stairs to get to Ginny’s dorm; the staircase to the girls’ tower had a hex. Soon, the weeks that they spent planning led them into early October. 

Ginny got a start when she checked the calendar; she didn’t realise that it was already October, but then again she had been occupied with D.A. 

One bright, sunny morning of a Sunday, an owl came flying in. Ginny wondered what it was, Filch now checked all of the mail that flew in and out. When the owl landed at her window, she opened it and a gust of warm fall air came in. Then Ginny realized why she found the owl hard to see. It was charmed with a Disillusion Charm. Who would do that? If it wasn’t anything dangerous— _crap! Why did I let the owl in?_ But when Ginny was just about to shoo the owl and the package back out, she saw the familiar logo of Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. Of course Fred and George had to charm it; Filch would have never let something from Fred and George come in. Ginny let the owl come in and removed the package. She flipped it over, and as she expected, there was a letter taped to the back. Ginny unfolded it and began to read. 

_Dear Ginny,_

 _We heard about the greasy git becoming Headmaster. And how are the Carrows? I hope you’re giving them hell. You should follow in our footsteps more. Ah, I can see it already, Ginevra Molly Weasley working at Weasley's’ Wizarding Wheezes. How are the other professors?_

 _

There has been no news of Harry, Ron or Hermione yet. Oh yeah, Ginny, but there is a new radio station called ‘Potterwatch’. It was made by Kingsley and the other Order members. The password for this night is ‘Hogwarts’. Normally the passwords have to do something with either Dumbledore or Harry. Listen in on tonight, we’ll be on! If you’re not giving the Carrows and Snape hell yet Ginny, you better start. Do better than we did with Umbridge. You better. 

Yours, 

Forge and Gred

 _Ginny laughed in amusement at Fred and George’s letter. She pondered about the sack of strange blue powder in the package, and decided to keep it in her pocket, in case it would come in handy. Ginny dug around in her trunk for the old wizarding radio her father had given her. She found it and began to tune it to the correct radio. Once the name of the radio station ‘Potterwatch’ came up, Ginny tapped in the password with her wand. The radio station began to play, but it kept on saying ‘Wait for tonight at nine for the next Potterwatch,’ over and over again. Ginny sighed. _I guess I’ll have to wait. But at least I’ll be able to listen to it with Luna and Neville. Wait…_ Ginny set the radio in her trunk again and ran downstairs to talk to Neville. An idea had popped into head. _

_

“Neville, do you know where the Ravenclaw common room is?” Ginny needed to speak to Luna. 

“No, why?” 

“Well, I was thinking that, well maybe, we could charm the coins to send messages, instead of just numbers,” explained Ginny. Neville scratched his head in thought. 

“Well, maybe we could use the coins again to tell Luna to meet us in the Room of Requirement. Just set today’s date.” Ginny nodded. 

“Do, do you wanna do it in my dorm or yours?” asked Neville hesitantly. 

“Um, what about we go to the Room of Requirement?” suggested Ginny. 

“Sure, why not?” Ginny and Neville left the common room and made sure that there wasn’t anyone following them. Neville walked past the empty corridor of where the Room of Requirement door was. When he had walked past the seemingly blank wall three times, a large double door with delicate designs appeared. Neville pushed them open and walked in. Ginny rushed in after him, not wanting the doors to close. Right after she was inside the room, the door slammed shut without anyone touching them. 

Ginny walked into a circular, spacious room with many armchairs and a warm, crackling fireplace. There was a large oval table in the middle of the room with chairs surrounding it. The four house banners that hung on the curve of the wall towered over them. When Ginny looked back, there were two windows looking out into the halls of Hogwarts. The scene outside of the windows seemed to change; when she walked in, they were looking out in front of the Gryffindor common room. Now, the scene outside of the window had changed to outside of the Headmaster’s office. _Merlin, we can keep check on what’s happening around the school!_ Just then, the scene changed yet again, and Ginny was looking at the Hogwarts school from the outside. It looked beautiful, the leaves had turned to gorgeous red and orange colours. _Is it October already?_ Ginny wondered again, completely forgetting that she had realised that before. Even with the Carrows, time in Hogwarts seemed to fly by. 

She was interrupted by a particularly loud crackle of the fire. With a start, she realised Neville made this. 

“How… how did you do all this?” Ginny sputtered. Just then Ginny noticed something. She saw the air ripple right beside the fireplace. 

“It’s just the Room. It’ll do whatever you ask for. And I wanted the doors closed for everyone, including the Carrows. Anyone else in the Order or in D.A. can come in. So that’s what’s happened,” Neville explained. 

Ginny nodded, and suddenly, she let out a gasp. 

“Wait, Neville, did you see that? The air just rippled there!” Ginny said, pointing beside the fireplace. 

“No, what happened?” 

“I just told you; the air beside the fireplace just rippled! Like something was there!” 

“Ginny, you’re probably just imagining things,” Neville said, gently. 

“Yeah, I probably am. With everything going on.” Ginny muttered, slightly disappointed as she let her arm drop. 

“You know you can command the room too, right?” Neville said, turning the subject around. 

“Yeah, but I would never be able to do it like you,” Ginny replied. She looked around the room, taking in once again the magic. Neville blushed. 

“OK, do you have your coin?” he quickly said, changing the subject again. But Ginny didn’t notice. _Oh, crap. I totally forgot!_

“You forgot, I’m guessing, by looking at your face.” 

“Yep. Damn it.” 

“It’s OK, we can use the room to get it. Just think that you want your coin, your coin specifically, in this room right now without anyone else in the world knowing,” Neville instructed. Ginny closed her eyes and thought about her D.A. coin in the Room of Requirement without anyone else in the world knowing that the coin was coming to the room. Then, with a small crack, like when witches/wizards used Apparition, her D.A. coin appeared on the oval table in the Room. 

“Wow! Are you sure the Carrows can’t get in?” asked Ginny. A sly smirk was on Neville’s face. 

“There’s only one way to find out.” Ginny’s jaw dropped. 

“Are you serious?” Neville simply nodded. “Wait, wait. We have to have Luna here first. Then we can go and annoy the hell out the Carrows.” Ginny said. 

“OK, sure.” 

“Neville, is it possible to have the room transport a person here?” asked Ginny, an idea blooming in her mind. Neville smiled. from the look on his face, she was sure that he knew what her idea was. 

“I’m not sure, we can try though. We’ll have to close all loopholes too.” Ginny smiled. 

“But maybe you should do, you’re better with the Room.” 

“Sure. Ready?” Ginny nodded. She watched as Neville closed his eyes and placed his hands on his temple. Ginny could see the faint scar on his left hand. As Ginny remembered Neville’s scar, she subconsciously pulled up her sleeve and looked at her right arm. The scars were there, the biggest one was still scabbing. The more carefully Ginny looked at her arm, the more she saw a pattern. The largest cut ran straight down from her forearm to wrist. The stabs were somewhat arranged around the line in a ‘S’. ‘S’ for Slytherin, most likely, thought Ginny. 

Then Ginny heard a faint pop in the air. A dazed Luna stood in front of them onto the oval table, still in her pajamas that were decorated with the Ravenclaw symbol. 

“Where am I?” asked Luna, blinking her eyes once or twice. Ginny quickly pulled down her shirt sleeve, but Luna noticed. 

“Welcome to the Room of Requirement, Luna Lovegood,” Neville said with a dramatic arm gesture. Luna smiled. 

“What were you doing, looking at your arm, Miss. Weasley?” Ginny jumped. Luna sounded very much like her Head of House. 

“It’s not a crime to look at my arm, is it?” Ginny retorted, getting a little annoyed. 

“Ginny, it doesn’t still hurt, does it?” asked Neville with concern laced into his voice. 

“No, it’s fine. It just seems as if there’s a design on it, from the scars.” 

“What?” asked Luna shocked, jumping down from the table, her bare feet pattering on the floor. 

“Here, I’ll show you,” Ginny said, pulling up her right arm sleeve. Neville and Luna crowded around her. Luna furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. Neville glared at her scars as if he could make them disappear by doing so. 

"Do you see it?” 

“No,” replied Neville bluntly. “But they still didn’t have the right to do that to you.” 

“I know, but do you see it?” asked Ginny exasperated. 

“No, not really,” replied Luna. 

“OK, look,” Ginny said. tracing her finger over the scars. “They form a ‘S’, see? It forms a ‘S’ around the line.” 

“Oh, I see it now. It kind of looks like the Dark Mark,” stated Luna, almost awed. Ginny looked at it closer. Luna was right, the ‘S’ seemed to be curling up around a stick, like the Dark Mark that the Death Eaters wore did. 

“Yes, it does, but THEY STILL DIDN’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO DO THAT!” Neville yelled in a burst. She jumped back at him in shock, but then Ginny’s body moved before her mind could think, as Neville’s anger seemed to awaken her’s as well. She slapped Neville across the face. 

“I know they didn’t have the right to do it, but it’s the whole point of why we’re doing this!” exclaimed Ginny, throwing her arms up. “We are doing this so more people like me, like you, like the first years’ that stay here won’t have to go through what I went though! This is why I don’t want more people joining us! People will get hurt, people will die and people will be killed during this war!” Ginny felt all of her anger pour out. All of the anger against the Carrows, against Snape, against Voldemort. But she didn’t seem to realise that her anger was directed at Neville. “I DON’T WANT PEOPLE TO DIE FOR ME! I don’t want people to die because I wanted them to join some club!” Neville looked shocked, from which event, Ginny wasn’t sure. 

“Ginny! How could you slap him! He just cares about you!” Luna exclaimed, appalled. Ginny suddenly very felt ashamed. She shouldn’t have slapped Neville. That wasn’t necessary. Once again, she didn’t think. Can’t I do anything right? Neville straightened up, jaw suddenly set. 

“OK. I get it. You don’t want me to risk my life for you. Ginny, but you have to realise that not everything is about you. I didn’t join this—” Neville swept his arms out, indicating to the room. “I didn’t join this because I wanted to risk my life for you. I joined this so I could help stop people from dying. To prevent what happened to you to happen to others. Not to risk my life for you. You were a part of the reason why, but Ginny, you’re not the only reason. Not everything is about you, Ginny.” 

Ginny was taken aback. What happened to the old, fearful Neville? What Neville had just said was like a slap to her heart. _Merlin, he hates me now._ Neville was about to turn and leave, but Ginny grabbed his arm with her left hand. 

“Please don’t leave Neville. We need you. How will we work the room? How will we defeat the Carrows? How can we annoy the hell out of them? I’m so sorry Neville. I truly mean it. Please, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I was being arrogant, and stupid. I get it now. Will you please forgive me?” Ginny begged. Neville stopped in his path to the door. He turned and looked at her. Her eyes were on Neville, his clear blue eyes. She had begged him. Ginevra Molly Weasley, begging, begging, for Neville to stay. His eyes turned sad. 

“I know.” Ginny nodded. 

“Neville. Please, stay. Ginny’s sorry and we need some who will really annoy the Carrows,” Luna said gently. Neville looked lost in thought. 

“OK. I’ll stay. I forgive you Ginny. Now wipe away those tears, we have people to annoy!” Neville said, trying to penetrate the gloomy cloud over their heads with a ray of sunshine. 

“Thank you,” Ginny whispered to Neville. He smiled at her. She smiled back. 

“I don’t want to interrupt this moment, but we have to start planning now. Ready?” asked Luna, sitting down in one of the many seats at the oval table. 

“Yep,” replied Ginny, sitting to the left of Luna. Neville sat on the right. Neville had forgiven her for now, but with times like these, Ginny didn’t know what would become of their relationship. The rest of the day was spent planning; about stealing the sword. Luna had promised that she would try to charm the coins to send messages. They had skipped lunch, they were too wrapped up in their conversation. Soon, before Ginny knew it, the school clock had struck 6:00 for dinner. 

“I think we should go for dinner, I’m starving,” suggested Ginny. 

“Yes, I totally agree,’ said Luna. “And you, Neville?” 

“Yep.” They walked out of the Room and ran down to where the entrance of the Gryffindor common room was. They paused there; their cover story would be that Luna came down to wait for friends. But when they were almost to the Great Hall, Ginny heard yelling. 

“Do you hear that?” Ginny asked. Luna and Neville nodded. They proceeded to the Great Hall with caution and the yelling soon got louder until they could make out what the people were saying. 

“It’s not my fault that you’re a prat and hate students!” yelled a familiar voice. 

“Well, it’s not my fault your students refuse to listen to me!” a nasty voice spat back. 

“MY STUDENTS REFUSE TO LISTEN TO YOU? REFUSE TO LISTEN TO YOU!” Once Ginny, Luna and Neville got to Great Hall, they saw who were yelling at each other. Professor McGonagall was on one side of the staff table and Professor Carrow was on the other side. From where Ginny could see, Professor McGonagall’s wand was drawn in anger and Professor Carrow’s face was bright red. I bet he’s too dumb to have his wand drawn out too. You should always have your wand out when yelling with McGonagall. 

“It’s my students that refuse to listen to you? You’re the one teaching shit, not me!” screamed Professor McGonagall. Everyone gasped. Ginny had never heard Professor McGonagall swear. 

“You’re not one to say that I’m teaching shit, that’s you!” Professor Carrow bellowed. 

“SO I’M THE ONE TEACHING SHIT NOW, AREN’T I? YOU’RE THE ONE WHO’S GIVING STUDENTS DETENTIONS FOR STUPID REASONS!” 

“YOU HAVE ALWAYS GIVEN OUT DETENTIONS, MINERVA. NOW I’M THE ONE WHO GIVES OUT STUPID DETENTIONS?” Ginny looked at her friends. Neville face was pure terror. Luna looked like she wanted to hex Professor Carrow into oblivion. Then Ginny heard crying. She hadn’t heard it at first, but the crying was getting louder now. But sure enough, it was there. Ginny’s eyes scanned the room. The sobs were coming from a young girl; first year with light blonde hair, a few feet in front of her. She had tears flowing like a waterfall down her face. Ginny rushed up to her. She kneeled in front of the little girl. 

“What’s your name?” Ginny asked gently. She looked up from her crying and stared Ginny straight in the eye. She seemed hesitant to tell Ginny anything. 

“I’m, I’m, my name’s Elizabeth, Elizabeth Abagot,” the little girl replied timidly. Ginny recognized her from the Sorting; she was the first to be sorted. She smiled warmly at her. The corner of Elizabeth’s mouth tweaked up. 

“I’m Ginny Weasley. It’s OK. The shouting is going to end soon. Don’t worry,” Ginny said, pulling her in for a hug. Elizabeth soon began to cry in her arms. 

“I—I, I was really excited—to come to Hogwarts this year, and, and— I really hoped that it would be different from my old life, but, but—but not really,” Elizabeth sobbed into Ginny’s shoulder. 

“It’s going to be fine. Professor McGonagall would never let anything happen to you,” said Ginny reassuringly, patting Elizabeth on her back. At that very moment, Professor McGonagall had shouted at Professor Carrow. 

“I WOULD NEVER LET ANYTHING HAPPEN TO MY STUDENTS!” 

“Would you?” asked Professor Carrow menacingly. “Didn’t that lovely Miss. Weasley tell you anything about her detentions?” Professor McGonagall looked taken aback. Professor Carrow must have seen her face because he said, “Oh really? I suppose she didn’t tell you about her painless detention of the Cruciatus Curse? Or her bloodless detention of the Imperious Curse?” sneered Professor Carrow. Professor McGonagall didn’t let any sign of emotion show on her face, but Professor Carrow seemed to know that he had hit close to home. Elizabeth, still in Ginny’s arms, looked up. 

“Are they talking about you?” she asked curiously, her tears starting to subside. 

“Oh, nothing. It’s not me, it’s another Miss. Weasley. There’s two,” Ginny said, technically not lying; there were more that one Miss. Weasley, but it was her that they were yelling about. 

“OK. I don’t want you to be hurt.” Ginny’s heart swelled. She had just met Elizabeth and she was saying that she cared about her. This is why I’m fighting. For young students like her. They will have Hogwarts back again. I won’t let the Carrows and Snape take it away from them. Never. Then Professor McGonagall yelled something offensive to Professor Carrow. 

“YOU LITTLE BITCH! YOU PRICK! YOU COWARD! ONLY COWARDS TORTURE STUDENTS FOR DETENTION! HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE—” Professor McGonagall was cut off. 

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME, YOU OLD, SENILE IDIOT! YOU’RE THE LITTLE BITCH, NOT ME!” Professor Carrow yelled at Professor McGonagall. Just then he whipped out his wand, but Professor McGonagall was too quick for him. 

“PROTEGO!” Professor McGonagall yelled, pointing her wand at the students. Although Ginny didn’t see the force field, she knew it was there. The shield charm appeared in front of the students, protecting them from the Carrows. But that was her mistake. As Professor McGonagall’s arm was stretched out, casting the Shield Charm, Professor Carrow had shouted, “Crucio!” pointing his wand at her chest, unprotected by her outstretched arm. A stream of bright red shot from his wand, straight to McGonagall. 

Before Ginny knew it, she was running towards the scream of Minerva McGonagall, only to realise that the Shield Charm that was cast prevented her from jumping in front of the spell. Ginny was forced to look in the direction of the scream. Professor McGonagall’s back was arched and she was held in the air by the curse. Her teeth were clenched in pain; it looked like she was trying not to scream. After what seemed like an eternity, Professor Flitwick had shot a Disarming Spell at Professor Carrow and the Cruciatus Curse stopped. Professor McGonagall dropped down from the air and collapsed in a heap on the ground. Ginny wasn’t sure how long the curse was held on for, but it seemed a lot longer than her’s had. But just when she had collapsed, Professor McGonagall pulled herself up from the floor, wincing as she stood up. As she was just about to hex Professor Carrow, Headmaster Snape came striding into the Great Hall. Ginny looked back and the look on his face was pure anger. Fire seemed to burn in his eyes. 

“What is going on, Professor Carrow?” Snape asked in a low whisper. Ginny was slightly surprised, as Snape seemed to be more angry at Carrow, than McGonagall. Time seemed to freeze as Headmaster Snape spoke. Professor Carrow spoke. 

“Ah, Headmaster Snape. There had just been a small spat, between Minerva and I.” Why would this idiot tell him the truth? Ginny thought. 

“Oh really?” Snape said, raising an eyebrow. Professor Carrow nodded frantically. “It is true, isn’t it, Minerva?” 

“Headmaster Snape, I assure you that it happened. Professor Carrow also just happened to tell me that the Cruciatus Curse has been used on students in detention. Is this news to you?” said Professor McGonagall coldly, her arms crossed and she stood tall once again. It didn’t seem like she was hurt at all, much less tortured. 

“The Cruciatus Curse?” asked Snape emotionlessly, turning to Professor Carrow. 

“Why yes, you said never said that it wasn’t allowed,” Professor Carrow replied, defending himself. 

“Very true but—” 

“Yes, but it is not necessary,” Professor McGonagall seethed, cutting into Headmaster Snape’s sentence. 

“We never asked for your opinion, Minerva,” Professor Carrow snapped. She glared at him. 

“Well, it seems that dinner is almost over, Minerva, you will come with me. Amycus, you will meet me in my office after dinner at 7:30. No later,” Snape instructed. He began to leave, then beckoned McGonagall to follow him. She reluctantly followed him, limping slightly as she went on. _She’s not going to get into more trouble, is she?_

Professor Carrow sneered. 

“What are you all looking at? Get back to your dinner, ungrateful brats,” he said, glaring at the students. Ginny slowly walked back to a shaking Elizabeth. She knelt in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. Elizabeth looked up. 

“Elizabeth, I want you to quickly eat your dinner and straight after, I want you to run back to the common room. OK?” Ginny instructed Elizabeth. She nodded and headed to the Gryffindor table. Luna and Neville joined her side, watching the little girl walk to the Gryffindor table; sitting down and beginning to grab her dinner. 

"This is the reason we’re doing this, right?” _Yes, so young girls and boys can still have Hogwarts the way I did._ Ginny nodded and leaned against Luna. _I’m not going to let the Carrows take that away._

_

_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment... there aren't much hits, so, well, if no one reads it, there's really no need to update! So, uh, yep!


	8. Sword Stealing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stealing of the sword—what could go wrong?  
> A lot, it turns out.

One chilly mid-October morning, Ginny woke with a burst of adrenaline. This is it, she thought, with both excitement and fear. This was the day, the day they steal the sword. 

They had planned this out meticulously, every point thoroughly checked. With Snape, better safe than sorry. Ginny ran the plan through her head, for the hundredth time possible. She breathed a sigh of relief when nothing seemed wrong. Or so she thought. 

Ginny told herself not to worry; this would work. And soon, the sword would be rightfully in McGonagall’s office. 

As planned, Ginny, Luna, and Neville again met together in the Room of Requirement, as they discussed the stages of stealing the sword. 

“It’s going to be fine, stop worrying!” Ginny finally said, slightly annoyed, as Neville traced the map she had drawn, planning again, for what must’ve been the millionth time. 

“She’s right,” Luna said soothingly. “We all have this memorised. Nothing will go wrong.” 

“Well, now that you’ve said it, it will,” Neville grumbled. 

Although, finally giving in, Neville stopped his panicked planning, and they left to their separate ways. And before Ginny knew it, it was time for dinner. She ran down to the Great Hall, hoping to have one last discussion about the plan, no matter what they said. Luna, as usual, sneaked in the Gryffindor table for one more chat. 

“I still don’t like it. Why must I be alone?” Luna pouted, as Ginny went through her position of the stealing. 

“Well, I had to get Hagrid drunk; it’s your turn to do something dangerous,” Ginny retorted. 

“Oh, so I’m too fragile to do something by myself?” Neville cut in. 

Ginny smirked. “Well, if you wanna replace Lovegood, be my guest.” Neville paled and muttered ‘nevermind’. Luna laughed along with Ginny. Neville crossed his arms, feigning anger, but he was smiling, and soon, he joined in too. 

Ginny knew it was risky to let Luna be the distraction alone, but it made much more sense than having one person go and search Snape’s office by themselves. And Ginny already said, there were going to be no other people in this, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to take back her words. _I guess my pride is worth more than my safety._

As dinner ended, everyone filed out of the Great Hall, ready for bed. Following along, Ginny shuffled to her dormitory, and slept. Or at least, pretended to. At the stroke of midnight, Ginny quietly crawled out of bed and tip-toed out of the dorm. She didn’t bother putting on shoes, it would be too loud; too risky. And they couldn’t make a single mistake tonight. 

Ginny walked to the portrait of the Fat Lady, and saw Neville already there, also barefooted. The Fat Lady was wide eyed but silent, the hinge of the picture frame already swung open. Just as planned. She raised her hand and gave him a thumbs-up. Neville grinned and gave one back. 

Ginny checked her watch. Quarter past midnight. Perfect, so far so good. Ginny had given Luna a watch, too, so they could synchronise down to the very last minute. If everything was going well, right now Luna should be preparing for her part in the plan, one that, to Ginny, seemed much riskier than hers. Poor Luna, thought Ginny sympathetically. She hoped she was doing alright. 

Neville waved his hand in front of Ginny’s face. She blinked, returning from her thoughts. Neville gave her a look—‘don’t daydream now, we’re on a mission!’ Ginny sent an apologetic look and mouthed out ‘sorry’. Neville nodded, and beckoned Ginny with his hand. Slowly and silently, the pair walked closer, and closer, until they stopped just around the corner of Snape’s office. 

Ginny’s heart was racing as she cautiously poked her head out and squinted, trying to make out something in the darkness. She drew her head back, looking relieved, and nodded to Neville. 

A sudden yelp made Ginny’s heart almost burst out of her chest. She silently scolded herself, as she realised it was just Luna, doing her part. She should have known. _Focus, Ginny!_

“What in the world…” a voice muttered. _Snape!_ Ginny grabbed Neville’s hand and ran towards the corner. As they leaned on the wall, panting a little from fear, Ginny noticed Neville quickly let go of her hand. He looked away, and maybe it was just the eerie lighting, but his face was slightly pink. 

Soft footsteps and a creak told Ginny that Snape was coming out of his office. Thankfully, the footsteps got fainter as he walked closer to Luna. Ginny heard her gasp and stumble around. 

“Is that… Miss. Lovegood, may I ask what you’re doing outside of your dormitory this late?” 

“I…” Ginny heard Luna’s confused voice. “I don’t know? I-I was sleeping, and… Merlin, I must’ve sleepwalked! I’m so sorry, Professor Snape, I thought I’ve gotten over this by now, but it seems not…” 

Neville pinched her on the arm. Without making a sound, Ginny glared at him, only to find Neville burning a hole through her head. He gestured wildly towards Snape’s office. _Oh, right! Crap! Merlin, Ginny, concentrate!_ Ginny angrily chastised. Slightly panicked, she followed Neville into Snape’s office (he had thankfully left the door open), after making sure Luna led Snape far enough not to hear them. The duo creeped in Snape’s office, and Ginny’s eyes darted around, wanting to see everything. But first… 

“Insulato!” Ginny whispered, pointing her wand at the door. She shivered a little, reminded of her torture (literally) with the Carrows during her detentions. 

“Okay, we can talk now,” Ginny spoke, her voice sounding unnaturally loud after what seemed like hours of silence. Neville let out a loud breath. 

“Ugh, FINALLY! The silence was killing me!” he exclaimed, voice echoing off the stone walls. Seems like he has no problem talking, Ginny thought derisively. 

Ginny was about to start, when she saw something. A picture, but not any picture—a beautiful, black-and-white, gold-framed photograph. Innocently propped up on a desk covered with scrap papers, filled with hastily scribbled writing. 

And of not just of anyone, but Lily Potter. In all her dazzling, green-eyed beautifulness. Funny; Snape seems to hate anyone related to Harry. She would have dwelled on it longer, if not for 

Neville hissing at her to ‘hurry up this is not the time for your daydreaming, we’re in Snape’s bloody office’. 

So Ginny searched too, but after a while it was clear that they wouldn’t get anything done. There seemed to be nothing behind anything, and most (if not all) of the desks and cabinets were locked. With growing fear, Ginny noticed that Alohomora didn’t seem to do anything to the locks at all. 

Ginny began to panic, frantically looking for something, anything. But there was nothing. 

“Come on, come on… where’s the bloody sword?!” Neville shouted, panic also laced in his voice. Ginny looked at Neville, still looking, then at all the cabinets; they seemed to jeer at her. 

“I… I should’ve known this would happen… why didn’t I think of this? I should have… but I didn’t,” Ginny whispered softly, eyes stinging from the guilt. _Now we’re trapped here and Luna’s with Snape and we don’t even have the sword and why do I ruin everything?!_ She blinked; tears beginning to form in her eyes as she leaned against the wall. Neville looked at Ginny, and hurried to walk beside her, concern etched in his face. 

“No Ginny, it’s not your fault…” 

“But it is…” 

“Shush. It’s fine, don’t be so hard on yourself…” Neville’s reassurances seemed to worsen Ginny’s despair; It’s all my fault Neville’s here and trapped, and he’s trying to make me feel better. All that planning, and for nothing. Ginny let out a dry sob, her shoulders shaking. Neville looked torn on something; he seemed to make up his mind as he slowly spoke, a pained smile. 

“Y’know… I admire you for this. You’re strong.” Ginny choked out a bitter laugh. 

“Yeah, right.” 

“When people cry, it's not that they're weak. They've just been strong for too long." Neville pulled Ginny in and she felt his lips on her. They were warm and sweet, but she pulled back. The look on her face must have showed her feelings, because Neville said, looking away, “I’m so sorry. I just needed to do it.” 

“What, may I ask, are you two doing here in my office?” a cold voice interrupted them, and Ginny was almost, almost relieved. Neville pulled away in a split second, and as Ginny looked towards the voice, her heart turned to granite. 

Snape stood in the doorway, his robes still settling on the ground from his rush into the office. Ice cold fire seemed to burn in his black, endless eyes and his mouth was pulled into a taut line. His wand was raised in defence; obviously he knew that someone he didn’t want in his office was there. That’s us. Ginny and Neville looked at Snape in utter terror. Ginny looked at Neville. 

Neville looked at Ginny. Neither one knew what to do. 

“Well… seems like detention for both of you.” Snape sneered. Ginny’s heart sank. Please, no! Not the Carrows, please! 

As Ginny looked at Snape, silently pleading with her eyes, he seemed to decide on something. “You will both meet with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest tomorrow at 7:00.” 

Both Ginny and Neville looked at each other in complete relief. _The Forbidden Forest? Ha, that’s like heaven compared to the Carrows._ Ginny looked at Neville and it seemed like he was thinking the same thing. “Now get out of my sight, you useless brats, unless you want detention with the Carrows instead,” Snape snapped. Ginny nodded in sync with Neville, with mumbled ‘sorry’s, and, pink faced, they scampered out of Snape’s office. 

With Ginny’s walk back to her dorm, her footsteps became heavier and heavier. She was alone; Neville had to get something from the Room of Requirement. Well, or he said he did. _My guess is he didn’t want to even face me. Why did I even decided to do this? All of this was just a waste of time…_ as she neared her bed, she was surprised (but not in a bad way) to see a very pale Luna. 

“I am never,” Luna declared, “going to agree on doing anything relating to Snape, ever again.” 

“So… I’m guessing it turned out bad?” Ginny questioned, though she already knew the answer. 

Luna shivered. “More than bad; Snape found out I was faking much faster than we thought he would, and gave me detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest.” 

“Oh, same with me and Neville!” 

Luna slumped. “So, you got caught, too? Did you two find anything exciting?” Oh, right… Ginny blushed faintly. 

“Well, we couldn’t find anything at all… except for a picture of Lily Potter.” Ignoring Luna’s shocked expression, she continued on talking. “And, uh… Neville kissed me.” 

“WHAT?!” Luna said loudly. Ginny shushed her, embarrassed by how astonished Luna looked. 

“Sorry… but Neville? Does he like you?” Luna peppered Ginny with questions. Ginny scowled slightly. 

“I mean, I don’t want to hurt him; he’s really nice and all, but I don’t like him like that; because Harry…” Luna nodded sympathetically. _Why is my life such a mess?_ “Okay, but anyways—Snape caught us, and now we all have detention. Hmm… could be worse. At least Snape gave us detention in the same place. Thanks, Snape!” Ginny said sardonically. Luna giggled. 

-+-+-+- 

It was 7:00, and Ginny, Neville and Luna all were standing in front of Hagrid’s hut. Ginny raised her hand to knock, but something stopped her. Once again, she saw the curious ripple of colour in the distance, and not too far from the hut. 

“Hey! Luna, did you see that?” Ginny exclaimed, pointing in the direction of which she saw the ripple of light. Luna squinted. “No. What was it?” 

“There was a ripple of colour in the air over there! As if someone was under an invisibility cloak! I saw it in the Room of Requirement too!” 

“Really?” Luna said, once again squinting into the distance, trying to see what Ginny saw. “I can’t see anything.” 

“That’s because it’s gone. I thought I imagined it last time, but if I saw it again…” Ginny trailed off, confused. 

“Did you imagine it again?” cut in Neville. 

“Maybe… but if Ginny saw it twice, it must’ve been there!” exclaimed Luna. 

“No, no. Neville is right. I must’ve imagined it,” Ginny said off-handedly, ending the conversation. 

Just then, Professor Carrow came walking down to the hut. Ginny tensed up, and Professor Carrow must have noticed, because he smiled. 

“Well, well, good thing none of you brats are late. Headmaster Snape told me all about your little adventure. You better be smart enough to not do it again.” Ginny bit back a retort. 

“Well, at least we have brains. Unlike the idiot standing in front of me,” Neville snapped, and Ginny felt pride in Neville’s words. Professor Carrow looked at him in shock, but then his expression changed to sick delight. 

“Oh, look at the poor little boy. His mind has gone crazy! Just like his parents,” Professor Carrow sneered. Neville looked as if he had been slapped across the face, too stunned to say anything. Ginny couldn’t keep her mouth closed. 

“Oh, don’t you go there. At least his parents are smarter than yours,” Ginny spat. Professor Carrow looked at her in disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe what she had just said. 

“I’ll give you some advice. Keep your little, disgusting mouth shut, and you won’t get in trouble,” Professor Carrow sneered. 

Ginny scoffed. “As if your advice would do me any good. Go give it to some dead animal,” she retorted. 

Professor Carrow looked as if he wanted to smash them to pieces, then burn those pieces. But he didn’t do anything, as if he was holding himself back for some reason. 

“Well, you have a detention to fulliful. We might as well get it done and over with,” Professor Carrow said, ending all arguments. I can’t wait until you’re done and over with. 

Professor Carrow knocked on the door sharply, and Ginny was surprised; he seemed unusually polite today, if you exclude the little spat they had. Hagrid didn’t open the door. Professor 

Carrow knocked again. Hagrid didn’t answer, once again. Professor Carrow then turned around and clasped his hands together. 

“Alas, it seems that Hagrid is not available at the moment. You’ll have to come with me instead,” Professor Carrow said, a vile smile on his pale, doughy face. 

Ginny gaped in shock. The relief she had felt yesterday crumbled away. Before she could say anything in protest, Professor Carrow quickly turned, and began to walk in the direction of the 

Forbidden Forest. _What? Are we still going?_ Ginny looked at Luna and Neville. Their expressions reflected hers. 

Professor Carrow, turned, and, noticing the three were still standing in shock, beckoned them to follow. Ginny complied reluctantly, deciding it was best not to disobey him. Luna and Neville followed Ginny automatically. The walked down the twisted, worn path that lead to the Forbidden Forest. Professor Carrow stopped at the edge. 

“Stop. You will enter the Forest to find a Blood-Sucking Bugbear. Bring it to me after you are done. If you fail to find one… well, you shall find out when you come back,” instructed Professor Carrow, with an vile glint in his eye. Ginny looked at her friends. Luna seemed lost in thought, but Neville had a determined look on his face. 

“Of course, Professor,” Ginny said mockingly. 

“You may begin,” said Professor Carrow, oddly ignoring Ginny and sweeping his arm out; indicating that they could start. Luna was the first to react. She walked forwards and entered the Forest. Neville soon followed. Ginny rushed in after them. Once they were far away from Professor Carrow, they began to talk, illuminated by the light of the full moon. 

“Do you know what a Blood-Sucking Bugbear is?” asked Neville. 

“Nope.” 

“I do. Daddy talked to me about them once. They’re sort of like boggarts. It’s almost impossible to capture one, though. Wonder why Professor Carrow would need one. They don’t do much,” replied Luna. 

“Like himself,” said Ginny dryly and they all burst out laughing. 

“So, Luna, do you know where to find one?” asked Neville. 

“Well, they like to nest in trees, but only when it’s the end of mating season. I think that’s around now.” Just then, Ginny heard a howl in the distance. She whirled around, but she didn’t see anything. Her fear was cut off by Neville. 

“What do they look like?” asked Ginny. 

“Well, they’re like a big slug, with wings,” described Luna. “They are also bright green, but the entire forest is also green.” Ginny nodded, keeping her eyes out for something in the trees that was bright green. 

“Wait, do you guys have your wands?” asked Ginny. Luna and Neville nodded, pulling their wands from their robes. Ginny pulled hers out too. “Keep them out. You don’t know what’s in here.” 

“Good point.” They spend the next while looking around for Blood-Sucking Bugbears, always keeping close to the path. Ginny checked her watch, it was 7:30. 

“Ugh, we’ve been searching for an hour already and we have nothing. Nothing,” Ginny complained. “Is this why he gave us this mission? Because he knew it would be impossible?” 

“Wait, we’ve been searching for an hour?” repeated Neville. Ginny nodded. Neville groaned. “Professor Carrow would never let us hear the end of it if we don’t find one soon. Hurry!” They all nodded, and resumed their search. 

After what seemed to be the longest ten minutes of her life, Luna finally spotted something. 

“Wait! I think I’ve found one!” Ginny whipped her head around. 

“Really?” She asked hopefully. 

“Yeah! It’s up there, at the top of the tree!” Ginny ran over to where Luna was pointing. She was right, there was a large, sluggish-like worm, bright green, up in the tree. She sighed, glad it was finally over. 

“But how do you think we can get it down?” asked Neville. Ginny’s mouth suddenly dropped open, and she let out a yell of frustration, thinking of an idea that would’ve gotten them done and over with this at least an hour faster. 

Ginny raised her wand and pointed it at the Blood-Sucking Bugbear. 

“Accio Blood-Sucking Bearbug!” The bugbear was lifted off of the branch it was resting on, and landed in front of Ginny’s feet. It was bigger than she had thought. 

Luna and Neville both gaped as if they just had an epiphany. Ginny groaned and facepalmed. 

“How the hell are we going to get this thing back?” asked Ginny, deciding not to dwell on regret any longer. Luna, pointed her wand at the bugbear, coming to the same wordless conclusion as Ginny. 

“Folliculusleva!” The bearbug was wrapped in a blue emitting light and it floated up mid-air. “There. Done.” 

“Nice job, Luna!” Neville exclaimed. “Let’s finally, finally, go back!” 

Ginny nodded and turned around. She started following the path… 

_Wait. No. Damn it!_

There was no path. 

“You guys, where did the path go?” Ginny said nervously, and the excitement evaporated, like mist floating up to the sky. 

Neville looked around, blinking.“I’m…not sure?” As he began to say something else, he was interrupted by Ginny heard a long, mournful howl in the distance. The chilling sound seemed to stretch on longer than it should have. 

“Woah. Did you hear that?” Ginny whispered. Neville nodded, and grasped his wand tighter. Luna raised her wand higher. “What do you think that was?” 

“I think it just was the wolves,” Neville replied, though he was shaking with fear. 

“Um, I don’t think those are ‘just wolves’,” Luna stuttered, pointing her wand in the distance. Ginny looked at where Luna indicated. 

A pair of large, bright, green eyes staring at them. Acting on instinct, Ginny shot out a spell. 

“Stupefy!” The stunning spell, casted at the werewolf, hit nothing as it nimbly leaped to the side. It then growled with annoyance and slowly stalked towards them. Luna quaked with fear. 

They backed up until they hit a wall of trees behind them. 

“Guys… I think that’s a werewolf!” Ginny said, voice shaking. 

“How can there be werewolves in here?” Luna asked, as Ginny came to a not-so-surprising conclusion. 

“Snape,” she said angrily. “He must’ve set this up, he planned this!” 

They drew out their wands, ready to defend themselves. 

The werewolf lunged. Ginny heard a cry from the left of her; the werewolf must’ve caught up Luna. Another ‘Stupefy!’ burst out of Neville in anger, and as Luna yelled out again, Ginny, in her panic, drew out from her pocket the sack of mysterious powder Fred and George gave her, and threw it at the snarling werewolf. 

There was a cloud of sparkling blue dust, as the werewolf made equally confused and pained noises. As the fog settled, Ginny peered in to see a closer look, and was taken aback. Neville snorted. Luna gasped in pain. 

The wolf had ceased his attacks, and was now facing them. Its fur was spiky, sparkled, and bright blue. It peered up at Ginny with its bright green eyes. 

The more Ginny looked at the werewolf’s eyes, the more she thought that she recognised them. It whimpered, and Ginny felt a growing pity for the werewolf. 

“Well, not so proud and mighty now, are you, wolf?” Neville snickered. He raised his wand. 

“Wait, Neville!” Ginny interrupted. “It didn’t mean to attack us. It was just natural instinct. And besides,” Ginny added, noting Neville’s sour expression, “something tells me Snape provoked it purposely. Werewolves don’t just immediately attack people. And I don’t think it’s a werewolf. Probably just a wolf.” 

“Ginny’s right, Neville. It’s true; Hagrid told us that once. And I’m the one injured.” Neville reluctantly lowered his wand. Hearing Luna’s slightly pained voice, Ginny rushed over to her. 

There was a long gash down her left arm, from her shoulder to her wrist. 

“Luna! Are you OK?” Luna simply nodded, slightly pale, but otherwise looking fine. 

“Okay. Let’s get you out of this forest.” Neville and Ginny lifted Luna up in their arms and began to walk back to the path. 

The trio emerged from the Forbidden Forest. But this time, not even Ginny had noticed a flash of colour; the same strange ripple she always thought she saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this week! I hope you all enjoyed, and, as usual, please leave kudos if you haven't already! :)


	9. Class Crucios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During class, the Carrows do something horrid.

Red, yellow, and brown leaves slowly began to fall from their trees as Hogwarts entered November. Ginny gazed at the falling leaves, swirling through the air, as she walked to her first classes. She checked her schedule and groaned. Dark Arts. With Slytherin. Ginny shuffled to her classes with a much duller expression than the one she had before. But alas, she could not be late again; not after that detention. With a forced smile, Ginny pushed open the door and entered to a room of Slytherins. 

“Oohh, look, it’s the Sword Stealer!” a voice called out, jeering but laced with a bit of envy, even a touch of impressed awe. 

_Right,_ she thought, having almost forgotten the attempt of breaking into Snape’s office. 

“Hey, at least you didn’t find the sword, you might’ve accidentally stabbed yourself!” 

“I bet you were too stupid to even put a soundproofing charm!” 

“Ha, Snape probably felt pitiful for you; poor idiot Miss. Weasley!” Voices rang out from the room. Ginny clenched her hands, trying to keep herself from lunging and punching the nearest person. 

She was almost thankful when Mr. Carrow walked in, when the jeering finally died out. 

“Hmm… what a surprise, Miss. Weasley. The Sword Stealer, here in person!” he snickered, as Ginny glared. _Et tu?_ “Well, I would love to talk more, but let’s not waste time; today’s class will be very enjoyable,” Professor Carrow said, menacing glee on his face. Ginny shivered. She had known his definition of enjoyable, and it was anything but. 

“Today, we’re going to learn the Cruciatus Curse.” 

Ginny gasped as whispers of fear and even excitement spread through the classroom. “And what better way to learn it, than hands-on!” Dread settled in her stomach. _You’d better not be doing what I think you are._ “So, I will partner you up, and on my count, you will simultaneously cast the spell. Whoever does it faster, well, gets to torture the other.” 

Noise erupted from the students; some looking horrified, some seeming gleeful. “Now, let’s get going. We should have lots of time to practise.” 

As Professor Carrow walked around the classroom, making pairs. Ginny seethed with anger, and shook with fear. The Cruciatus Curse was one of the most terrifying experiences of Ginny’s life, and she did not want to experience it again. 

“Ah, and look here, Miss. Weasley… you will be partners with, let’s see here… Mr. Erudia.” A boy with dark brown hair and oddly honey-gold eyes walked forwards reluctantly. As he introduced himself, Ginny realised with a start, that this boy (who Ginny now knew as Logan) was one of the people who had called Ginny out this morning. The disgust must have shown on her face, because he quickly added, once the Professor had walked away: 

“I’m sorry I made fun of you. It’s just… I try to fit in, you know? I shouldn’t have, I know, and I’m sorry.” 

Ginny softened a little. As she opened her mouth to accept the apology, she was interrupted by Professor Carrow. 

“Now, let’s begin! Three, two, one…” Ginny noticed immediately, as the room filled with screams, that some people had gone before they were supposed to. Professor Carrow seemed to enjoy this immensely. 

Suddenly, she realised none of them, Logan or her, had raised their wands. Luckily, no one noticed; they were either too busy cursing or screaming, and Professor Carrow was submerged in his own sick glee. 

“I don’t want to hurt you. This shouldn’t be allowed,” Logan spoke over the shouts. Ginny nodded, relieved that Logan was not one of the Slytherins who hated Gryffindors with a dark, seething passion. 

“You’re right. I’m lucky I was partnered up with you.” 

As the class continued on, Ginny realised with horror that Professor Carrow was not joking when he said this was going to last the entire period. Ginny felt dread when the Gryffindor partners, sick of their cheating, started to cast the curse on the other student early too. This must be his plan, she thought angrily, noticing Professor Carrow’s delight. 

Neither Ginny or Logan had raised their wands at all. 

Slowly, Ginny warmed up to him. They began to talk about the unfairness of the Carrows, and Snape. Ginny was incredibly happy when Logan agreed with Ginny on her perspective of them. 

But it didn’t last forever. Halfway through the period, Professor Carrow walked up behind Ginny. Logan’s eyes widened. 

“What, may I ask, are you doing, Miss. Weasley?” Ginny spun around at his voice, her hair whipping him in the face, giving her a slight bit of satisfaction. 

“I believe, as you told us, we are casting the Cruciatus Curse.” 

Professor Carrow sneered at them. “Thought I was that stupid, didn’t you?” 

“No, maybe a tad bit more,” Ginny retorted automatically, studying her nails, not even looking at Professor Carrow’s face. 

“Why you—” 

"Language, Professor,” Ginny contradicted, grinning, the same thing she said to his sister. Professor Carrow glared but didn’t say anything. 

“Continue on with the curse. Mr. Erudia, I want you to Cruico her at least once. I want to hear that high pitched scream,” he suddenly added. Logan nodded, with a fearful expression on his face. Professor Carrow left them. 

“OK, I need you to scream, so we can fool the idiot,” Logan instructed, leaning closer. Ginny nodded. Then, trying her best to imitate the cries and screams she made on that night of the detention. Ginny collapsed on the floor, gasping, 

“Please! No! No more!” Professor Carrow looked over to Logan, seeming a little startled by the speed of which Ginny's cries began. He walked over and patted him on the back. 

“Good job. Not bad for the first time.” Logan looked horrified. Once Professor Carrow had walked away, Logan helped Ginny up. 

“That was amazing! You scared me; I almost thought I accidentally cast an actual spell!” 

“Thanks.” _I’ve had experience._

When the class was finished, they were the only ones not battered and bruised. 

-+-+-+- 

That evening, Ginny, Luna, and Neville met once again in the Room of Requirement, and Ginny was furious to know it wasn’t just for one period. 

“That’s what happened to my class… I can’t believe they did that…” Luna whispered, eyes wide. 

“Yeah, me too… I’m so sorry that happened to you, Ginny. I should’ve been more empathetic.” Neville apologised, as he shivered with the memory. 

“It’s okay. I was lucky enough to be partnered with someone who disliked the Carrows as well. And I think it’s time to let in more people,” Ginny said, finally giving in. Neville and Luna both nodded in agreement and relief. 

“So, about having more people in D.A… “ Ginny began. 

“Oh, yeah! We’re going to kick those Carrows’ butts!” Neville exclaimed. Ginny laughed, and Neville looked away. 

“So, do you think that we should get the old people back? Where do you think we should meet?” asked Luna. 

“Well, like last time, we could have a sign-up meeting in Hogsmeade, the next trip is in a week, right? Or, you know what? Maybe it would be easier to just have people come to the Room,” Ginny suggested. 

“Yeah, OK. We could first ask the original members, then have some kind of message sent out that D.A. is still recruiting,” said Neville. Luna nodded. 

“Yes, but who do we know to trust?” asked Ginny. 

“We could do something like what Hermione did last time, like have them all sign a contract, and if they reveal anything, they’ll have some kind of jinx,” Luna suggested. 

“Can you do that, Luna? 

“Yep! And, I brought these as well," Luna suddenly added, pulling out some coins. "See? You can use your wand to change the message,” Luna demonstrated, pointing her wand at the coin and slowly changing the letters to say ‘hello’. Ginny and Neville looked at their coins. And sure enough, the word ‘hello’ was printed at the bottom to the coin. 

“Cool! Nice job, Luna!” Neville said. Ginny tried it out for herself; she concentrated, and spelt out ‘how are you’ on her coin. Soon, she got the reply from Neville, ‘good, thanks’. 

“This is really cool! Thank you!” 

“So, you would be able to do this to everyone’s coins?” asked Neville. 

“Yep! I took me a while to figure it out, but once I did, duplicating it was easy,” said Luna modestly. 

“OK, so we should get word to more of the old members and then tell them the time we should meet again?” asked Ginny, restating the plan. 

“Yep. Tell them to meet us in the Room of Requirement, seventh floor, third corridor, 7:30, the day after tomorrow. Is that a good time?” asked Neville, and they nodded. 

“So it’s Room of Requirement, seventh floor, third corridor, 7:30, day after tomorrow. OK, that’s good,” Ginny confirmed. 

“Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask you—where did you get that hair-dyeing powder?” Neville suddenly interrupted. “You know, the one you threw at the werewolf.” 

“Fred and George gave it to me,” Ginny answered, “along with a letter.” 

Just then, she remembered something. “Oh, right! And they told me about this radio station—Potterwatch.” Ginny felt guilty for forgetting; Fred and George were supposedly going to be in it the day she received the letter. 

A radio appeared on the table they were sitting at. Luna smiled. 

“Shall we listen to it tonight?” Ginny pocketed the radio and smiled back. 

“Totally.” 

-+-+-+- 

That night, Ginny met with Neville and Luna in her dorm. She took out the radio they had taken from the Room of Requirement, and tuned it to the correct station. As Ginny realised they needed a password, the trio took turns guessing words to do with Harry or Dumbledore (as George and Fred said). 

Turns out, the password was ‘Fawkes’, Dumbledore’s pet phoenix. 

They all listened, as the radio crackled to life. It was precisely nine o'clock. 

_In our latest report for those out of touch and on the run, I bring some bad news for anyone interested in keeping things happy at Hogwarts!_

That’s Lee Jordan!” Neville exclaimed. Ginny and Luna nodded, focusing on the radio. 

_Severus Snape has been appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts. We advise all students there to plan their responses carefully, as we have heard that "Slytherus Snape" has implored a number of Death Eaters to take care of discipline at the school!_

 _Grim times, indeed. And it's not just Hogwarts that's suffering. With the jinx on the Dark Lord’s name, the one that starts with ‘V’, many are being caught at the time._

Kingsley’s calm, deep voice came out of the radio. _The Dark Lord’s name, the ‘V’ one, has been placed with a taboo. If you speak the name, the Death Eaters will know immediately. So, Harry Potter, is you’re out there, be careful and avoid the Dark Lord’s name.

Thank you King, for that informational report. Don’t speak the Dark Lord’s name, or it may be the last thing you say! 

And here we have Rodent, reporting about the muggle world. 

Thanks, River. 

_

“That’s Fred! Or George, I’m not sure, but it’s one of them!” Ginny exclaimed. Luna smiled at her, knowing that she missed her family. 

_The new wizarding order is also affecting the Muggle world...badly._

 _While Muggles remain ignorant of the source of their suffering, they continue to sustain, "heavy casualties"._

 _

However, we do hear some truly inspirational stories of wizards and witches risking their own safety to protect Muggle friends and neighbours. Often, without the Muggle's knowledge! I'd like to appeal to all our listeners to emulate their example, perhaps by casting a protective charm over any Muggles dwelling in your street. Many lives can be saved if such simple measures are taken! 

And what would you say to those listeners who reply that in these dangerous times, it should be, "wizards first"? 

I'd say that it's one short step from "wizards first", to "Pure-bloods first", and then to, Death Eaters. We're all human, aren't we? Every human life is worth the same, and is worth saving. 

Excellently put. So, for all those who want Hogwarts- 

free of Death Eaters- 

and those who think Muggles should be protected,- 

keep each other safe, keep faith, and help Harry Potter! 

Yes! And we suggest that you continue to show your devotion to the man with the lightning scar by listening to… 

POTTERWATCH! Listen in next time time with the password as Albus. 

_

The radio stream ended with a crack and turned off. Ginny, Luna and Neville looked at each other. Each student had a look of relief on their faces. 

“He’s still alive!” Ginny exclaimed. Neville had told her that if Harry Potter was killed, it would be posted everywhere. But it was still comforting to hear it from someone else. Luna smiled, relieved. 

“But… what about Hermione and Ron?” Ginny’s spirit dampened. What if Hermione and Ron aren’t with Harry? _No, they have to be. They wouldn’t let Harry go on his own,_ Ginny’s mind argued with itself. 

“Ginny, they’re fine. Harry wouldn’t be alive without Hermione. If Hermione wasn’t with him, Vol—” 

“Luna, no!” Ginny sat forwards towards her, her hand stretched out. 

“—emort?” Luna finished the name as a question. She tilted her head, curious as to why Ginny told her to stop. 

“Didn’t you hear the radio?!” Ginny exclaimed. Luna’s eyes widened, as she noticed her mistake. They were breaking so many school rules, and now Ginny didn’t know what hell of a detention they were going to get. 

Ginny jumped to her feet, thinking as fast as she could. “Quick! Luna, you hide in that closet, and once you’re in it, place a Disillusion Charm on yourself! Neville, go! Run down and place yourself in a chair, pretend to be sleeping!” Ginny instructed her friends. Neville didn’t even look back and rushed down the stairs. 

Luna ran to the closet and placed herself behind the clothes. Ginny shut the doors and jumped into bed, pretending to be sleeping. 

As Ginny closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart, she hoped that Neville had made it into a chair in time. It would look very suspicious if Neville was found at the end of the of the staircase in the girls’ dormitories. Just then, the door of her room burst open; it was knocked off the hinges and the wood had cracked. Ginny bolted up straight in bed, trying to make it look like that she had just woken up by the door being slammed open. She rubbed her eyes, and saw Professor Carrow standing in the entrance of the door, Headmaster Snape right behind him. 

“Hmm? What happened?” Ginny yawned, pretending to be waking up. Snape spoke first, 

“There has seemed to be a little disturbance in this dormitory,” he said in his silky voice. Ginny tried to look confused. 

“In this dormitory? Are you sure, Headmaster?” Ginny asked. 

“She must’ve done it, Headmaster, this little idiot is the reason for everything!” Professor Carrow exclaimed, pointing his finger at Ginny. 

“But if she was the one who said the Dark Lord’s name, she would’ve said it to someone. Where are your little friends?” said Snape coolly. 

“What Dark Lord’s name? Is there a jinx on his name?” 

“Don’t play dumb with me, stupid girl,” Professor Carrow said, poking his finger into Ginny’s face. She could feel his breath on her cheek; did that man ever brush his teeth? 

“No, really, what jinx on You-Know-Who’s name?” asked Ginny once again, playing dumb. 

“Miss. Weasley must’ve been talking to someone, where are your friends?” asked Snape in a dangerously quiet voice. Ginny didn’t say anything. “You don’t know, do you?” Snape walked over to the closet where Luna hid. He paused for a moment. His hand on the handle. “This seems to be the perfect place to hide somebody, don’t you think, Professor Carrow?” 

“Yes! Of course! Why didn’t I think of it first?” _Because you’re a idiot._ “Hurry now, open the closet!” 

Snape looked annoyed, having Carrow tell him what to do, but still, he slowly turned the handle, and— 

Nothing. Professor Carrow gawped at the seemingly empty closet. For some reason, Luna had made the clothes in the closet disappear too. Ginny stared at the bare closet, trying to make out Luna. 

After a moment of squinting, Ginny realised that if she looked carefully enough, she could make out a ripple or two of colour that was out of place. Thankfully, Professor Carrow didn’t seem to notice this. 

“What—how did—” 

“See, there’s nothing there. May I please go back to sleep now?” Ginny carefully ventured. She wanted to gloat, but didn’t want to push her luck any further. Snape sighed. 

“Yes, you may. Professor Carrow,” he said, turning around. Professor Carrow glared at Ginny one last time, as if he wanted to say something, but then he turned, and reluctantly followed Snape out of the room. 

Ginny waited until the sound of the footsteps receded. Then she breathed out a deep sigh. 

“Whew, that was a close one.” 

“Tell me about it.” said Luna, appearing in the closet. “Hey, do you think we should go and get Neville back?” 

“I think he’ll be fine. He’s probably snoring in a chair right now, asleep.” Ginny smiled. “Speaking of which, we should get some rest, too. It’s going to a long day tomorrow.” Luna instinctively yawned, and walked towards the door. 

“Alright. Good night, Ginny.” 

“Good night, Luna.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Victoria Day! ^_^  
> I hope you enjoyed this update, and I will see you next week!


	10. Dumbledore's Army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny, Neville, and Luna start off Dumbledore's Army with a bang.

“So,” asked Luna nervously. “What do you think?” 

Neville, Ginny and Luna were in the Room of Requirement again, huddled around the table, looking at the edition of The Quibbler Luna had copied. Luna’s father, Xenophilius Lovegood, had sent them to Luna at her request. 

Neville looked at Luna. “It’s great!” he said happily. “This is perfect!” 

Luna smiled shyly. “Well, I need to duplicate it first. But that’ll be easy, I’ll do it tonight. Is that okay?” 

“Yep!” Ginny responded, “the sooner the better. But if we’re giving it out tomorrow, we better think of what we’ll do after we have D.A. back up. I was thinking…” As Ginny talked, she noticed that 

Luna and Neville weren’t really listening. Whatever, she decided to ignore it. 

Together, they brainstormed ideas until they thought of what seemed like a good plan. Ginny decided to tell it to the D.A. members, and put it in action once they were all back together. 

-+-+-+- 

“Thanks!” Lavender said as she skimmed over the page Ginny gave her. 

“Would you mind giving one to Parvati too?” asked Ginny, handing Lavender another edition of The Quibbler. 

“No problem!” Lavender said, taking the newspaper from Ginny’s hand. Neville and Luna were doing the same thing, in different places in Hogwarts. 

The Quibbler copies they were giving out told them to go the the Room of Requirement tonight at 7:30. That is, if they still wanted to join. Ginny was worried there wasn’t going to be enough people. 

_Relax. We’ve managed with three before._

After Ginny had finished handing out the editions of The Quibbler (near the end, some people Ginny asked had already taken one), she entered the Room of Requirement, and waited for Neville and Luna. 

They walked in together after a couple minutes. 

“So, how’d it go?” Ginny asked, interrupting their conversation. 

“It was great, many people wanted to join again. I even recruited some new members, like that guy Logan you were talking about!” Luna exclaimed. Ginny was relieved; people did want to join again. That was probably what they were talking about. Her friends weren’t excluding her on anything. 

“So, shall we get some rest? Meet here again, 7:30?” Neville said. Ginny and Luna both nodded, and left. 

That night, Ginny went into the Room of Requirement early, along with Luna and Neville. They sat at the table (Luna had created some extra chairs, too), waiting for the others. 

As 7:30 came, more and more people came into the room, until the table was full. Ginny saw many familiar faces, like Lavender Brown, Parvati and Padma Patil, Seamus Finnigan, Terry Boot, and the last face she recognised was the biggest surprise, Logan Erudia. When they were certain no one else would come, Ginny nodded to Neville, and he stood up. The room quieted. 

“Thank you for coming, and proving your faith and commitment to Dumbledore. As we know, Snape is now Headmaster,” some angry mumbles filled the air, “and we have two new professors; the Carrow siblings.” Ginny heard nervous and scared voices scattered throughout the room. “They have been terrible, as you very well know, and we have to stop it—this is what Dumbledore’s Army is about; keeping Hogwarts… well, Hogwarts. Keeping Hogwarts home, keeping it home to the many students that live here. 

“To protest for what the Carrows are doing, Ginny, Luna, and I have created a plan.” Finishing, he sat down and nodded to Luna, who stood up. 

“We have to make sure all the professors know about the Carrows’ doings. And to do so, we have planned to vandalise the school.” Ginny heard gasps from nearly everyone as it set in. “It sounds dangerous, and it is. But this is the best way for everyone to know about how the Carrows are treating us.” Luna paused for a moment. “If anyone thinks this is too risky, and wants to back out, you may do so now. But if you do choose too, you must sign a sheet to promise that you will not sell us out.” 

A moment of silence. No one left the room. Luna smiled. “Thank you all. Before we begin, would you all please sign this sheet of paper?” Luna passed down the table a sheet of parchment and quill and waited patiently for everyone to sign the paper. “When you sign this parchment, I will remind you once more, you are signing up for danger. I will give you one more chance if you don’t want to join.” Again, no one made move to leave the room, and Luna continued. 

“If you sign the paper and rat us out, we will know exactly who you are.” Luna sat down and the parchment was passed back to her, with all of the signatures of everyone in the room. She nodded at Neville. 

“OK, thank you,” Neville said, thanking D.A. for signing the promise. “Starting tomorrow, we will give the Carrows a little… surprise about Dumbledore’s Army being back again. We will vandalise the school in groups with at least one skilled charm-caster, who will, at that time, cast an Disillusion spell on everyone in their group. And we will try to do this as much as possible, until the professors decide to do something.” Neville sat down and nodded at Ginny, who finally stood up and began to speak. 

“This will be dangerous, and risky. However, it will be even more so if we continue to let the Carrows treat us like crap; who knows what hell will be brought upon us? If the professors can’t do anything, we will. And we’re not just doing this for the fun of it. The Carrows are horrible; just a month ago,” Ginny took a deep breath. “They gave me detentions, and during them, they used on me both the Cruciatus Curse and the Imperious Curse.” 

As Ginny had expected, voices of outrage and anger spread through the room. “Yes, two of the Unforgivable Curses. I’m sure they would’ve been happy to cast the last one left on me, but they can’t, can they?” Ginny glanced at Neville, who looked beyond angry. She gave him a small smile, and saw with relief that his scowl had cleared a little. “This is why we must fight. For students, friends, family and even our professors. And of course,” she looked around the room. “For Dumbledore!” Ginny raised her wand to the ceiling and silently lit it up. The others did the same. 

“FOR DUMBLEDORE!” every voice in the room shouted enthusiastically. Neville, and Luna stood up with Ginny. They smiled at each other, and took a small bow to the audience. 

Ginny allowed herself a small, proud, grin through the flutter of clapping. 

-+-+-+- 

Ginny woke up smiling. 

Throughout the day, her attitude did not dim, not even when Professor Carrow unleashed what seemed like the most crap assignment Ginny had ever heard. 

“You will write a paper with all the ways Muggles are mistreating us wizards and witches,” she told the class, as she caught Ginny’s eye and smirked. “You will also write how we are superior compared to them. Due in two days.” 

Ginny raised her hand, and without waiting to be called on, she spoke. 

“Professor Carrow, I’m finished my assignment.” she said in a cocky voice. When Professor Carrow glanced in her direction, Ginny took out a blank sheet of parchment and waved it up in the air, making sure everyone in the room saw it. “I guess I have two free days now?” Ginny grinned. Professor Carrow glared. 

“Well, do you want another detention?” 

“Oh no, I’m sorry! Please forgive me!” Ginny said in mock horror, but with just enough fake honesty so that Professor Carrow couldn’t tell she was faking. 

“Alright then. Know better than to talk back, Miss. Weasley.” she huffed. Ginny wanted to burst out laughing. Normally she would be incredibly angry, but there didn’t seem to be a reason for that anymore. Now that we’re doing something to stop her. 

-+-+-+- 

In the Room of Requirement, the people were split into five groups, each of them flickering between invisibility, practising for that night. Ginny, Neville, and Luna were together as they talked. 

“Okay, we have everything planned out. Nothing will go wrong,” Neville said, then, seeing Ginny’s face, hastily restated, “and I mean it this time!” Ginny laughed, eyes sparkling. 

“Yes, I trust you. And everyone here as well. Shall we begin?” With Neville’s eager nod, Ginny turned to the crowd. “Okay, Dumbledore’s Army! We trust that you are adequately prepared for tonight. 

Again, we will all go to the Great Hall. Make sure you are being quiet, and whoever’s casting the spell must concentrate. And don’t forget your spray cans!” Ginny added. Everyone smiled and nodded. 

“Alright then, let’s get going!” 

“Do you have your newspapers?” Luna asked. Lavender, Ernie and Logan all nodded. Floating in the air in front of them were a stack of The Quibbler, ready to be slipped all over the place. The papers were charmed with a spell that would duplicate the object if touched. They would spread The Quibbler all over the school, so it would be impossible for the Carrows (or anyone) to clean up. There was also a spell placed on the papers so no one could summon them. The clock chimed eleven o’clock; one hour to midnight. 

One by one, each group left the Room of Requirement, everyone having a different destination. They marched through the hall, in the inky blackness, in muted excitement. All the members were careful not to leave any hints of their trek behind. Each group had a person that would lead with the spray paint, one that would hold the newspaper and one that would keep the Disillusion Charm alive. 

Luna replaced the Disillusion Charm once more, and Ginny floated the newspaper up. Their destination was Headmaster Snape’s office door. Ginny nodded to Neville and Luna, and they exited the Room of Requirement. 

Ginny had checked the times of all of the professors’ patrol times, and the Professor Carrows were not patrolling, much to her relief. The patrol guard for tonight was Professor Flitwick, who, as planned, was at the other side of the school. The trio tiptoed across the many staircases and hallways until they reached the ugly old gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster’s office. Ginny grinned at what she thought looked like Luna blended into the wall. Neville passed Luna and Ginny a can of spray paint, and they began to work. 

The silence was only broken by the quiet fizzling of paints. 

When Ginny, Luna and Neville were finished, Ginny stepped back and admired the view. 

_‘LILY DOESN’T DESERVE TO BE IN YOUR OFFICE.’_

Ginny checked her watch. It was 11:26; Professor Flitwick would be coming back soon. Ginny nodded to Luna and Neville, who silently dropped the cans of spray paint on the floor, right in front of Snape’s office, and left for the Great Hall. Ginny ran down to the staff table. Behind it were the four house banners. With a flick of Ginny’s wand, the banners all ripped in the middle and left a space for writing. Neville and Luna caught up with her. She turned to Dumbledore’s Army. 

“Ready?” Ginny whispered, and from where she could see, they nodded and, as far as Ginny could eye, some of them raised their cans of spray paint. They set to work. Lavender was spreading out the newspaper all over the place. She touched a few experimentally, and they duplicated, as they were expected to. Ginny grabbed a can of spray paint from Neville, and using her wand, began to write the words: _‘DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY, STILL RECRUITING!’_ in big, bold red letters. Luna was painting on the Headmaster’s chair: _DUNDERHEAD, SITTING RIGHT HERE!_ Ginny saw out of the corner of her eye that Seamus was writing on the wall closest to the Slytherin table: _HARRY POTTER IS ALIVE AND IS GOING TO DESTROY YOU, SEVERUS SNAPE! _Logan, Padma and Parvati had helped Ginny with writing the sign that said: _YOU SHOULD MARRY UMBRIDGE, CARROW!_ Ginny saw some of the Hufflepuffs in the group write again, but in smaller letters: _DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY, STILL RECRUITING!_ __

__They had worked relentlessly, and when finished, silently left. It seemed like nothing at all had happened, to a passerby or professor, in this special night. At least, until morning came.__

 _ _

-+-+-+- 

A paper flew into Ginny’s face. She woke up, and was neither surprised or disappointed. 

There were papers. Lots of them. 

As Ginny hurriedly got dressed, and walked out of the room, she laughed quietly at the view. Dozens of The Quibbler were on the floor, the walls, and some people had even taped newspapers onto the ceiling. Most of the students were immensely confused, then shrugged and walked away, only to slip on yet another sheet of paper. But once in awhile, Ginny noticed some students smile proudly at the sight, just like Ginny had. 

“So,” Lavender whispered, seeing Ginny. “D’you like it?” Ginny looked around at the many Quibblers. She nodded, words couldn’t express what she felt today. 

“Definitely. It’s amazing.” Lavender grinned, happy with herself, and skipped away. Ginny waved goodbye, and with a spring in her step, she walked to the Great Hall. She felt like skipping too. Ginny met Neville on the way out of the Gryffindor common room and they walked together to breakfast. 

“Late night, eh?” 

“I can’t wait to see the professors’ reactions!” Ginny said enthusiastically. Neville nodded. They spent the rest of the walk there in silence. 

Once they had made it to the Great Hall, it was a sight to see. Professor McGonagall had her wand upraised to perform a spell, but no incantation rose from her lips. From where Ginny could see, Professor McGonagall looked almost proud. A feeling Ginny couldn’t describe welled up in her heart. But the look on Headmaster Snape was the one that gave Ginny the most satisfaction. Snape’s face was contorted and twisted in anger. He seemed on the verge of losing control. Got what he deserved. And the Carrows were seething, with their wands out, trying (without success) to get rid of the words. 

Ginny was sure that Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick could have had the words gone in a minute, but like Ginny, they enjoyed seeing the Carrows struggle. 

Ginny was careful to make sure that no one knew it was her; the Carrows couldn’t have any more leverage. Soon, more and more students came in, with shocked expressions on their faces. Ginny grinned, but then wiped it off her face. Neville noticed Ginny, and stopped his conversation with Luna to sit beside her. 

“Pretty impressive, isn’t it?” Ginny nodded, beginning to eat her breakfast. Ginny looked back up to the staff table. Snape was trying to get rid of the offensive message on his seat, as was Professor Carrow. Professor McGonagall had already sat down and began to eat, acting like nothing was happening, but Ginny thought she saw a shadow of amusement flicker across her face. 

Professor Carrow seemed to feel offended from this, because he yelled at her: 

“Get up you little PRICK!” Professor McGonagall looked startled, but continued to eat her breakfast wordlessly. Professor Carrow glared at her, and yelled again, 

“DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME THE FIRST TIME, YOU OLD SENILE BITCH?!” Professor McGonagall pretended that she had not, and poured her milk steadily. Professor Carrow was raging now. 

“ARE YOU DEAF, YOU LITTLE—” 

“Why, Professor, language!” Professor McGonagall scolded, in a voice as if reprimanding a child. Professor Carrow looked scandalised. He glared at her once more, but did not say anything. Ginny and 

Neville exchanged grins. 

Just then, Luna joined them at the Gryffindor table. 

“This is wonderful; the teachers all seem happier!” she said cheerfully, the grin already on her face broadening. 

“Well, if you don’t count the Carrows and Snape, yes!” said Neville. 

“Who cares about them? We’ll continue this until people are forced to actually do something.” Neville and Luna nodded. Ginny quickly finished her breakfast, listening to the conversation of her friends. She told Luna that she was going to get ready for class, and left. Ginny wandered the halls for a while, basking in her happiness. That is, until she met Professor Carrow in the halls. He seemed to smell her happiness and swooped down upon it like a hawk. He pressed his finger into her cheek, already accusing her wordlessly. Ginny looked him dead in the eye, ignoring the sharp nail digging into her face, daring him to speak. He released his finger from his cheek and crossed his arms angrily. 

“You think you’re so smart, do you, Miss. Weasley? I know you’re behind this. And you’d better stop.” Ginny’s heart froze, but she forced her stare not to waver. “Yes, you don’t want another detention, do you?” And before waiting for a response from Ginny, Professor Carrow elbowed her aside, and strolled away. 

Ginny scowled at his shrinking shadow. However, it disappeared into a slightly sly smile. _Well, too bad for you. I’m not the only one who can make threats._

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :D


	11. Professor McGonagall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny and Elizabeth run into McGonagall. Ginny realises just how different the Carrows' arrival has made Hogwarts.

One day, Ginny was chatting aimlessly with Neville. Her mood these days was immensely increased; they had vandalised every night. 

But after a while, a sound made her stop the conversation: quiet, familiar crying. Elizabeth. Ginny quickly excused herself and rushed towards the noise. As she expected, there was Elizabeth Abagot, trying to silence her sobs. No one else seemed to notice; Ginny wondered why she had, from the other side of the room. Perhaps the sound was burned into her mind; it was there, the time Professor McGonagall was hit by the Cruciatus Curse. She shook herself from the thought; this was not the time for regret, and looked at Elizabeth. Ginny gasped at the sight of her hand. It was cut, still bleeding. Nothing like Ginny’s arm, which still throbbed with pain now and then, but… 

“Ginny?” Elizabeth mumbled, wiping her tears away. “Why are you here?” 

“Why is your hand cut?” Ginny asked, not bothering to answer her question. Elizabeth shivered. 

“It was the C-Carrows. I got talked back to her-er and she yelled at me to shut up… ” Fresh tears ran down her face. Ginny patiently waited for Elizabeth to calm down. “Professor Carrow wanted us to talk about killing muggles! My best friend is a muggle-born!” Bloody idiots. Ginny thought darkly. “I was supposed to read this book, all about muggles and killing them! But I couldn’t, it was horrifying and they gave me detention and cut my hand and now…” Elizabeth buried her face in her hands as Ginny patted her back, and tried to calm her down. She whispered _Accio bandages_ , and taking one, she wrapped Elizabeth’s hand up. 

“It’s going to be OK, Elizabeth, it will be alright,” Ginny said, pulling her in for a hug, anger burning at the Carrows. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Ginny’s neck and sniffed. 

“I think I feel better now,” she spoke softly, after a moment. 

"When is your detention?” Ginny asked. 

“Next week, 6:30,” she said timidly, as if she was afraid to admit that she had gotten into trouble. Ginny nodded, and stood up. 

“Do you want to walk to the Gryffindor common room with me?” Elizabeth nodded with a small smile on her face, wiping the last of her tears away. She clasped her hand into Ginny’s and they began to walk out of the Great Hall. 

“Did you grow up in a muggle place?” Ginny asked politely, making small talk. 

“Yes, my mum’s a witch and my dad’s a muggle. He found out when I was born. Mum told him. Huge shock for him. She told me he fainted!” Elizabeth giggled. _OK, thank Merlin she’s not a muggle-born. The Carrows would practically kill her._

“Is this the first time you’re doing magic?” 

“No, I’ve had little slips before, Mum said that it was OK.” Suddenly, they bumped into Professor McGonagall, nearly knocking her off her feet. 

“Ladies! Watch where you’re going! Please!” She said sharply, startled. Ginny recovered first. 

“So sorry, Professor, we were just heading to the common room.” 

She was about to just let it slide, and continue walking, but then Ginny looked carefully at Professor McGonagall. There were bags under her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept in days, weeks even. Wispy strands of hair were loose from her normally tight, upright bun, and if Ginny looked closely, there was a faint gash across her cheek. It was barely there; it seemed to be hastily covered up with a Disillusion Charm or makeup. 

Elizabeth asked Ginny’s unanswered question. 

“Are you alright, Professor?” 

The professor’s head snapped up, and for a split second her eyes shone with panic. “Yes, I am quite fine, thank you for asking,” Professor McGonagall said in her firm, no nonsense voice (although Ginny didn’t quite believe her). 

Ginny looked closer, trying to see more. Professor McGonagall looked straight into her eyes suddenly, noticing Ginny’s scrutinization, and something flashed in her eyes. It was anger. 

Ginny was confused as in why Professor McGonagall would be angry now, but then she saw her eyes lingering on Ginny’s right arm. She must know. Ginny’s eyes widened. 

“Miss. Abagot, you may return to the common room. I need to have a word or two with Miss. Weasley here,” Professor McGonagall said firmly, and Elizabeth left, running in the direction of the common room with a sideways glance at Ginny, who sent a look that said ‘don’t worry. Everything’s fine.’ Although she wasn’t sure if that was true. 

Professor McGonagall beckoned her and turned around. Ginny rushed to follow, and before she knew it, they faced the tall, spruce, lion-headed handle door of Professor McGonagall’s office. Professor McGonagall whispered the password, and for a moment, Ginny thought she heard _‘Potter’._

Professor McGonagall stepped in and Ginny followed her. The door closed with a click. She sat down at one of the armchairs by the fire, and used a hand gesture that implied that Ginny do the same. She sat down gingerly in the chair, wondering what Professor McGonagall was going to talk to her about. I think I already know, though. 

“I think you already know what you’re here for.” McGonagall voiced Ginny’s thoughts. She nodded. “Well then, I won’t waste any time dilly-dallying.” Ginny braced herself. “What have you been doing for your detentions?” 

At the word detention, Ginny flinched as restrained memories surged back. And that, it seemed, answered McGonagall’s question. She looked shocked, then angry, then defeated. She collapsed even more into her chair. She put her head in her hands. “Just as I thought.” Ginny rushed to correct Professor McGonagall. This was exactly what she feared would happen. 

“No, Professor, it’s okay. I’m fine now, and as far as I know, no one else has been tortured…” Ginny felt guilty as the lie escaped her mouth, but she was convinced it was for McGonagall’s own good. 

“Don’t lie to me, Miss. Weasley. Even with my age, I have better eyes than you.” 

Feeling guilty, Ginny looked down. There was a pause; it seemed as if McGonagall was waiting for Ginny’s reply. 

“Um, okay. That girl I was walking with—Elizabeth Abagot—got cut by the Carrows during detention, but only once, and, also, um…” Ginny trailed off, noticing her slip, as McGonagall’s gaze sharpened. 

Ginny gave in, and spoke. “And, erm, Luna’s, Neville’s, and my classes were taught the Cruciatus Curse,” Ginny admitted quietly, not wanting to worry Professor McGonagall any further, but not wanting to lie, either. 

“But none of us could cast it very well; we weren’t hurt seriously!” she quickly and hastily added, seeing Professor McGonagall’s jolt of angry surprise. 

“They taught you…? How could they do that‽ ” She exclaimed, for once not bothering to mask her shock. It didn’t help Ginny’s growing anxiety and worry. 

She kept quiet as Professor McGonagall slowly regained her composure. “I don’t have words to describe how shocked I am, Miss. Weasley. I’m so sorry I didn’t realise this sooner. If there’s anything I can do to help, please tell me now, and I will do my absolute best to fulfill them.” 

Ginny, despite her knowledge, felt her heart grow heavy, as she realised that, through Professor McGonagall’s words, it implied there was nothing really she could do to stop it. Well, Ginny knew this earlier, but it was still a shock. 

Although, she was surprised at her words. She could ask for Professor McGonagall’s help—it may not do much immediately, but maybe, if a professor stepped in, along with Ginny… 

But then, she slowed down and thought it out. _Do I really want to make Professor McGonagall even more stressed? She’s looking worse than ever these days. I don’t want to worry her more._

After a pause, Ginny made her decision, and looked Professor McGonagall in the eye. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Ginny smiled gently. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything? Although you are doing mighty fine without my help.” McGonagall said with a trace of humour. After a moment, Ginny understood and laughed. 

“Yes, we appear to be. And it’s alright, you really don’t have to get involved with this.” 

“Well, listen to you, sounding more like a professor than me!” they laughed quietly, and Ginny felt warmer as she felt a spark of motherly affection from the professor across from her. 

“Well, Professor I really must get going to my next class,” Ginny said, disappointed that their little chat had to end so soon, but really not wanting to be late. 

“Of course. Please tell Professor Slughorn that I was the one that kept you,” Professor McGonagall said. Ginny was surprised that Professor McGonagall knew about her schedule. _But then again, she’s the one who made it._ Ginny nodded and began to leave. Then Professor McGonagall grabbed her wrist with surprising force. 

“Miss. Weasley. If anything like that happens again, please alert me at once,” Professor McGonagall said, the firmness in her voice returning. She stared Ginny in the eye, who nodded. 

"You may go, please close the door behind you.” Ginny nodded and left, not intending to tell Professor McGonagall anything more about her detentions. _Well, I ought to get one soon, since I can’t keep my mouth shut. I can’t worry that woman any more than she already is. She looks like she’s been to hell and back._

In her lesson, she curiously didn’t get any more jeers, although she got some weird looks from the Slytherins, as if they knew that she was the one who vandalised the school. 

Potions rushed by without anything very important, and before she knew it, she was at Transfiguration. Luna was already there, and waved at Ginny. 

“How was your first class?” Luna asked as Ginny sat down in the seat beside her. 

“Good, I had Potions. You?” 

“Great, actually. I had Charms.” Ginny knew that Charms was Luna favourite subject. Then, the door of the classroom opened and Professor McGonagall walked in. She didn’t even glance at Ginny, as if the conversation in the morning never happened. Ginny felt kind of hurt from this; McGonagall had always, in some ways, been a second mother to her. She was the one who had been there after the Riddle incident. She was the one that Ginny would go to if she had a problem. _Remember, Ginny, there’s a reason why you’re not telling her anything._

The lesson swept by, Professor McGonagall not making eye contact with Ginny at all. And soon, it was lunch time, and Ginny ran down to the Great Hall, wondering if the words were still there. And there they were, like always, painted in bright, eye-catching red on the back wall of the Great Hall. The Carrow professors still didn’t seem to have any luck removing them, because they were sitting at their seats, sulking. Ginny walked down the hall to her seat, taking in the words in their full glory. _Dumbledore’s Army did really well, didn’t they?_

Ginny sat down by Neville. “Looks good, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, nice job on the words last night,” Neville complimented, and Ginny blushed faintly, remembering the kiss in the Headmaster’s office. 

“Thanks.” Ginny grabbed her lunch and ate quickly, wanting to leave the Great Hall so she wouldn’t be late again. Once she had finished eating, Ginny headed for the common room, mentally preparing herself for the Dark Arts. Stupid. The school clock struck one o’clock and Ginny grabbed her things. She rushed down to the classroom and sat in her normal seat, in the back. She kept her things on her lap and waited patiently for Professor Carrow to come. _Now Ginny, you mustn’t show any kind of action that will make Professor Carrow suspicious. If he has the brains to think about that, anyway._

Professor Carrow came sweeping in a few moments later, his robes billowing, although Ginny thought that he just looked like a not-as-good replica of Snape. He stopped at the front of the classroom, his wand drawn. 

“Today, you dunderheads, l will be looking for the git who vandalized the Great Hall.” _What? How?_ Professor Carrow’s face was twisted into a menacing smile. _What are you doing today, you bloody git? Torturing more students?_

“Today,” he repeated.” I will be joined here with dear Professor McGonagall.” And with those words, Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom, her hands tied behind her back. Ginny gasped, automatically knowing what Professor Carrow was going to do. 

“Our dear Professor here is going to demonstrate what will happen to the little idiots that vandalised the Great Hall.” Ginny eyes widened, and Professor Carrow seemed notice, because his smile grew wider. He then pointed his wand at Professor McGonagall and yelled “Crucio!” Ginny watched with horror and admiration. Professor McGonagall was lifted into the air, her back arched, and her hands stilled tied behind her back. But Ginny noticed that as much as Professor Carrow tried, not a sound came from her professor’s mouth. Her teeth were gritted together, trying her best not to scream. But from the expression on her face, Ginny didn’t see pain. She saw regret. 

Ginny stood there, watching her professor being tortured, doing nothing. She didn’t know what to do; she couldn’t admit that she was the one who did the vandalising, but she couldn’t let Professor McGonagall be tortured, either. 

She watched as Professor Carrow raised his wand once more, seeing as nothing was happening, and shouted even louder, 

“Crucio!” And for the second time, a jet of blood red hit Professor McGonagall in the chest. 

Ginny was just about to run up to her, she couldn’t stand it anymore, but she saw the look in her professor’s eyes. _No, don’t save me. Leave me be. I’m fine._ But she wasn’t fine, was she? 

Professor Carrow looked disappointed when Ginny didn’t react, and continued shooting more and more curses at the professor, each one growing in strength. He was on his fourth Cruciatus Curse now, and Professor McGonagall was weakening. The ropes restraining her hands seemed to have fallen away. 

On the seventh Cruciatus Curse, Professor McGonagall let out a single scream of pain, not able to hold it back any more. Without thinking, Ginny found herself running towards the sound. 

“STOP! STOP! I’LL REPLACE HER! Please, just stop this!” Ginny paused in front of Professor Carrow, staring him dead in the eye with rage. She saw Professor McGonagall collapse to the floor, but she stretched her arm to Ginny and said in a steady voice, despite her body quivering with pain, 

“Miss. Weasley! You will not replace me! I forbid it!” Professor McGonagall got up shakily, her wand drawn. 

“Look at this! Professor McGonagall playing favorites? I thought I would never see the day!” Professor Carrow sneered. Professor McGonagall glared at him. “Well, if you know who the culprit, or culprits, are, you would tell me, wouldn’t you, Miss. Weasley?” Ginny nodded. “Well, then, who is the culprit?” 

“I’m not sure.” Professor Carrow raised an eyebrow. Ginny met his gaze with a steady eye, anger making it easy to lie. 

“Of course.” Professor Carrow rolled his eyes. “What about you, Minerva?” 

“I know of nothing that would be of use to you, Amycus.” Her hands were clenched into fists. 

“Very well, then. If you choose that way.” As Professor Carrow said this, he pointed his wand at Professor McGonagall and whispered in a deadly voice, _“Crucio.”_

This time, Ginny heard no scream, saw no expression on her Professor’s face, nothing. The ray of red light came again and again. 

She went limp at the final curse, and as Ginny watched the red stream of pain shoot towards McGonagall, she couldn’t take it anymore. 

Ginny, without another moment’s hesitation, jumped in front of the spell. 

The memories and pain hit her like a bomb. Everywhere hurt like hell. Ice-cold fire was burning through her bones, and it felt like a knife was sliced through her body. 

And it was different this time. Now, it felt as if several tiny, lethal knives were sinking into her skin. How did Professor Carrow cast a spell like this? _Maybe he’s had practise,_ said the tiny part of Ginny that wasn’t blank with pain. She couldn’t help a scream coming out of her mouth. She heard the curse be fired multiple times, but she lost count. This was so much worse than her detentions. How did McGonagall survive this? She felt tears sting her eyes, not caused by her own pain, but by the pain McGonagall went through to protect her. 

Then, suddenly, the pain stopped. All Ginny saw was darkness, and Professor McGonagall’s worried expression haunting her for the rest of her life. 

-+-+-+- 

Ginny woke. Groggily, her eyelids fluttered open, as she looked around. She seemed to be in what looked like a bed, with blank walls surrounding her. The hospital wing. _Hospital wing! What happened?_

She closed her eyes again, rewinding her memories. Her eyes shot open as she remembered—the Cruciatus Curse. Professor McGonagall. Ginny looked around. She saw Neville slumped in a chair beside her, fast asleep and lightly snoring. Ginny tried to sit up, but every part of her immediately protested in pain. She gasped. Neville’s eyes slowly opened. He rushed over to the side of Ginny’s bed as he noticed Ginny’s awakening. 

“Are you alright, Ginny?” Neville asked nervously. 

“I’m fine.” Ginny waved away his concern. “Who brought me here?” she asked, remembering a worried face above her, right before she blacked out. 

“I’m not sure. I came here after Luna told me about you,” Neville replied. 

Then, in a sudden burst of memory, Ginny remembered Professor McGonagall. 

“What about Professor McGonagall? Is she OK?” Neville looked at her, confused. 

“Professor McGonagall? What happened? Is she hurt?” Ginny bit her lip. 

“Well,” she said, twisting her fingers together anxiously. “Professor Carrow was determined to figure out who was the culprit. He brought in Professor McGonagall, and well, he said that the culprits would get what he did to her.” Neville looked shocked. 

“What did he do this time?” he asked, his voice fading to a whisper with each word, although he probably knew already. 

“He… he used the Cruciatus Curse on her.” Neville leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes… Considering what the Carrows have done before, he shouldn’t be that surprised. 

“Nine times in total,” Ginny whispered, not really wanting to tell Neville, but deciding that he should know. She knew that his parents had been tortured to insanity, and now stayed in St. Mungo’s. 

“Nine times?” Ginny nodded. 

“What did you do?” Neville sighed, knowing Ginny too well to think she had just watched. Ginny paused again, not sure if she should tell Neville. 

“Well, on one of the curses, I couldn’t take it anymore! Neville, wait, before you say anything,” Ginny said, seeing his face, preventing Neville from interrupting. “You should’ve seen her. She didn’t scream or anything, but you could see on her face that she was in absolute pain. You would’ve done what I did, too. 

“I said that I wanted to take her place, and Professor Carrow considered it. But Professor McGonagall insisted that she take it all, and so she did. Well, until I jumped in front of the curse.” Ginny added, almost as an afterthought, and Neville groaned and frowned at her. 

“You shouldn’t have done that. Professor McGonagall did it all for your safety. You just wasted it, and now you’re in the hospital, and both of you are hurt!” 

Ginny suddenly felt a rush of guilt from Neville’s logic. She really shouldn’t have tried to replace Professor McGonagall. She was trying to protect her. Now Ginny had threw it all in the trash. 

“Dear Merlin. I guess I really did screw up,” Ginny sighed. “Did you see Professor McGonagall today?” she asked, more worried about her than herself. 

Neville nodded. “I had her for Transfiguration. She looked fine to me.” Suddenly, right at that moment, Ginny realised that she didn’t even know what day it was. But if Neville hadn’t brought it up… 

“Neville, how long was I out?” she asked, partially not wanting to know. Neville looked down at his shoes, not meeting Ginny’s eyes. 

“We also stopped the vandalising. We wanted to hear your opinion first.” 

“Neville, how long was I out?” Ginny repeated, a little more forcefully, ignoring Neville’s statement. 

“One day,” he muttered, not meeting her eyes. 

Twenty-four hours. Ginny was out for one entire day. 

“What did I miss?” 

“Nothing much, Professor Carrows kept on being jerks though,” he said, brightening up a little. 

“That’s normal. You should expect it by now,” Ginny said, waving a hand. Neville laughed. Ginny couldn’t help but join in. A feeling of happiness bubbled up inside her. At the very moment, Ginny temporary forgot her troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! :D


	12. Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape finds out what the Carrows really do in their lessons.

That night, Madam Pomfrey deemed Ginny well enough to leave the hospital, with only a warning to “take it easy” as a parting message. 

So Ginny walked down the hall, to her dorm; apparently she was still weak, and could take a break from classes for a couple days. 

Although she wasn’t going to—Ginny had Transfiguration the next morning, and she wasn’t going to miss it for the world. 

She walked through the halls, fingers trailing over the walls. She neared the Gryffindor common room and spotted Neville and Luna whispering to each other in a corner near the end of the hall. Ginny ignored it. _You don’t have to be involved in everything._

Instead, she gave the password to the Fat Lady, and hurried away. 

She arrived at her dorm, and felt a pang of self-pity by just how… lonely it seemed. No one was there; nor would anyone ever be. Her mind, once again, flashed to Harry, his bright eyes and sharp wit. Hopefully, that, and his friends, would be enough, so he wouldn't... 

Ginny shook her head. _No. Don't think about that._

Trying to brighten the place a little, Ginny flicked her wand at the fireplace; a warm, blazing flame appeared, and, if only a little, it lifted Ginny’s spirits, as her troubles seemed to disappear with the embers. 

She changed into her pyjamas, and fell asleep to the steady noise of the quiet, crackling fire. 

\------ 

_Ginny looked around her, terrified and confused. In front of her and on the right was McGonagall, screaming in pain. Left, Professor Carrow, his wand drawn, firing curses at the other professor._

 _Ginny’s mind was filled with panic. She tried to run to Professor McGonagall, but her feet were stuck to the ground. She could only watch as her professor was shot by each and every blood-red ray, until she lost count. Ginny kept on trying to escape from her prison, but couldn’t break free, no matter how hard she struggled. It felt as though chains of guilt held her in place, pulling her lower and lower into the ground. It was like the Imperious Curse all over again, but this time it was worse._

 _

At last, Ginny couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“Please, stop! Just, please, please stop! Please!” she begged, tears threatening to fall. 

“No!” Professor McGonagall stated firmly, even though her body was shaking with pain. 

“You had your chance. And you blew it,” Professor Carrow said gleefully, looking at Ginny. 

Ginny could only watch, tears flowing freely down her face now, as her professor slowly but surely collapsed.

_

There were tears in her eyes as Ginny woke up, sweat coating her face. It was just a nightmare. She tried to believe it. But how close had 

Professor McGonagall been to collapsing like she did in her dream? And what if… what if that time… what if that wasn’t her first time? Is that why she didn’t show so much pain? 

She started to change quickly; she needed to check, to see for herself. Ginny got changed in a jiffy, and after breakfast, rushed down to her first class, Transfiguration. 

The closer Ginny got, the more nervous she felt. What if Professor McGonagall wasn’t there? What if Neville just didn’t want to worry her any further? Her footsteps got faster and more brisk, and as she peered into the classroom, Ginny was immensely relieved, and breathed out an audible sigh, as she found Professor McGonagall in the classroom. 

She was standing tall; shoulders back and face devoid of emotion. She seemed fine… _but, these days, what’s the meaning of “fine”?_

Ginny walked in, carefully watching Professor McGonagall’s face for a reaction. Her face remained impassive. Disappointed, Ginny trudged to her seat. 

The Transfiguration lesson went on without any trouble, but Professor McGonagall did meet Ginny’s eyes. Not even once. 

Even still, Ginny tried to pay attention to the lesson. But her mind kept wandering to the image she had lost consciousness to—even in that one second, Professor McGonagall’s eyes showed exhaustion, pain and one feeling that especially sent shivers down her back. Her eyes shone with fear. 

_If even Professor McGonagall is scared, then how should we be feeling?_

Before she knew it, Transfiguration was over and she was off to Charms. 

Charms went by, without anything memorable. Defense—no, “The Dark Arts”—was fine, or whatever “fine” was in that awful class. Ginny kept her face emotionless, responding to Professor Carrow’s snide remarks with a cool “Yes, Professor”, or “I don’t know, Professor”. 

Ginny found it easier not to lash out now; she couldn’t bear it if he did anything more to Professor McGonagall. 

Snape entered the Great Hall during lunch, head high and cape billowing as usual. Ginny scowled. 

“Great, look who’s here,” Neville muttered to Ginny, and Luna (who had sneaked over so many times, they found it unusual if she didn’t) looked around nervously. Snape stopped in the middle of the room, as the chatter of the students rather quickly ebbed out, and the room was completely silent in mere seconds. 

“An announcement for you dimwits. I will only say this once. Any organization or club with four or more people will not be allowed. If anyone is caught, all the people in that club will be getting a detention with the Carrows. Have a nice lunch,” he added sarcastically, and with that, he turned and swiftly exited the room, leaving the trio mouths open and gaping. 

That night, Neville and Luna met in Ginny’s dorm. 

“Of course we’re not canceling Dumbledore’s Army! It’s exactly what the Carrows and Snape want!” 

“But we have to, Ginny! You’ve seen what happened. We were walking on thin ice as it is, and now Snape tells us it to our faces? It’s the only way!” 

Ginny crossed her arms stubbornly. “Do what you want. There is absolutely no way I’m quitting. I’ll run D.A. all by myself if I have to.” Neville glared at her with a mix of frustration and concern. “And besides, we’ll just be more careful. I’ll call off the vandalising if you really want. We’ll start it up later.” He looked slightly doubtful now. “Also, Snape said four or more. We can still do stuff, just the three of us.” 

Neville and Ginny both looked at Luna. “Well? You’re the tiebreaker.” 

Luna seemed to ponder. “I think… it should just be the three of us again. Maybe we could expand, but if we are, only after a while, when their guards are down.” 

Ginny shot Luna a sideways smile. 

“Always fair. Alright, Neville, I take it you’re fine with that?” Neville nodded, looking satisfied. “Okay. We’ll call another meeting—would tomorrow night, same time, be fine?” 

With Luna’s confirmation, she and Neville left Ginny’s dorm. And after silencing her restless thoughts and plans, Ginny, too, fell asleep. 

-+-+-+- 

The next day passed on rather peacefully. At least, of course, until night came. 

Dumbledore’s Army was rather disappointed to find that they could not vandalise anymore (“Aw, it was the most fun I’ve ever had this year!”), but all agreed on the fact that it would be too dangerous. Ginny left the Room with a tinge of discouragement, but it had to be done, she thought. 

And now, with just the three of us again, we’ll need to think of better, safer plans; ones with more effect. And it’s not going to be easy. 

-+-+-+- 

Ginny woke up staring at the star-painted ceiling of her dormitory, feeling her covers tight around her, neatly wrapped. 

She dragged herself into the bathroom, hoping to freshen up. In the bathroom, Ginny looked into the mirror. A stranger stared back. 

There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. She had lost weight, making her clothes look like they were hanging from her thin frame, in a twisted mockery of Professor McGonagall. There was a bruise on her left cheek and a cut underneath her chin. How had I gotten that? Ginny couldn’t even remember. 

She washed her face, cleaned up the cuts, and tried her best to cover up the bruise with a spell. Reminded of McGonagall, Ginny shivered and worked faster. Once finished, Ginny looked back into the mirror. She looked a little better, if she did say so herself. 

She washed her face once more, and after making sure none of the cuts and bruises were showing, got dressed. She ran down to the common room, wanting to see her friends. 

A warm rush of air ran into Ginny’s face. The fires were lit, and the torches were burning brighter than ever before. The scent of fresh pine trees rushed to Ginny’s nose, filling her with nostalgia. 

-+-+-+- 

Luna watched, helpless, as Ginny clipped out her response. “No.” Professor Carrow’s eyes widened. He glared at Ginny. She repeated what she had said. “No.” Professor Carrow snarled, and seemed to have made up his mind. 

“Have it your way, then.” He pulled out a long, gleaming, silver dagger from behind his desk. 

Ginny didn’t have any reaction; seemed to have predicted this already. She remained as still as stone, sitting in her chair, a statue. 

Professor Carrow walked up to Ginny, raised the dagger, and cut it into her cheek. Ginny showed no reaction, no flinch to the pain; instead, in a twisted, evil contrast, Luna thought Ginny had even relaxed a bit. The professor lifted the dagger off Ginny’s cheek roughly. 

Ginny still didn’t show any type of emotion. The knife came again, on the other cheek, deeper than the last cut. Luna shuddered and looked away. 

Professor Carrow once again raised the knife off her face, a thin trickle of crimson down Ginny’s cheek. 

_Why am I not stopping this?_ Luna questioned herself, panicked. 

A small, reasoning voice whispered out. _If you do, he’ll do something worse. You know that. The others do, too._ Luna cast her gaze to Ginny, apology clear in her eyes, but Ginny’s face was blank, she was not looking at Luna. There was relief in her eyes. 

“Are you going to listen to me now?” Ginny stared at him dead in the eye, unmoving. 

“No.” Ginny calmly replied, not taking her eyes off the professor once. 

Professor Carrow glared at Ginny once more. He pushed the tip of the (now even more) bloodstained knife slightly into her neck. Luna shivered, she could see the skin straining, almost broken. 

“Are you going to do it?” he spat. 

“No.” He pushed the knife a little deeper. A small trickle of blood ran down from the edge. 

Ginny still seemed to be holding it together; Luna still didn’t see her show any expression on her face. The knife was still at her throat. 

Luna flashed back to reality as she heard Professor Carrow’s manic cackle. She blinked, and looked at Ginny in utter terror. 

The knife was digging into Ginny’s jaw. Luna gasped as it pierced her chin; saw the blood. 

Then, suddenly, freezing the entire room, the door opened. 

-+-+-+- 

Ginny Weasley, sitting stoically in a chair, Professor Carrow with a knife at her throat, and the rest of the class looking at him in pure shock. 

Professor Carrow didn’t seem to realise that he was there, he seemed too engrossed at the moment, and asked Ginny a question. 

“Are you going to do it?” Judging by Ginny’s almost bored look, he must’ve asked many times already. 

“No.” Professor Carrow dug the knife even deeper into her throat, the trickle of blood running down her neck faster. 

Her cheeks had gashes on them, the one on the left side deeper than the other. 

He felt a chill run down his spine. So this is what Ginny’s been going through all this time. 

Ginny didn’t seem to have any kind of reaction to the knife at her throat—she seemed to relax at the cut. 

Professor Carrow grinned vilely, and begun to twist the knife. 

“Professor Carrow? May I ask what you are doing?” 

“Headmaster! What a… pleasant surprise!” 

Severus raised an eyebrow, not convinced at all. 

“Did you not get the note that I sent you earlier this morning?” Severus indeed did slip a note into Professor Carrow’s office desk, but didn’t expect him to get it anyway. 

“No, I did not, Headmaster. What was it about?” _Dunderhead. You would’ve known if you read it!_

“You may read it after your class. But right now, I would like a word with Miss. Weasley.” Professor Carrow looked shocked, glancing at Ginny’s cuts fearfully, but didn’t push him. He nodded reluctantly and said, 

“O-of course, Headmaster. She’s all yours.” 

Ginny was still sitting there, the blood steadily trickling onto her shirt, a little shocked by Severus’ appearance, and although Severus didn’t want to, he barked at her to follow. 

“Miss. Weasley! My office!” 

Ginny snapped out of her thoughts, and numbly followed Severus as if she was a robot. Severus left the room, his robes billowing behind him, with Ginny Weasley trailing him, lost in her mind. 

Severus came to a stop at an ugly looking gargoyle that asked for a password. 

“My Lord,” Severus whispered, completely hating the identification. He walked silently into his office and sat down in the chair that Albus 

Dumbledore once occupied, his flapping robes resting on the ground beside him. 

He wordlessly cast a silencing charm on the office. Ginny walked into the room, closed the door and began to walk up to him. 

Severus silently studied her, to get a better look, and noticed that there were actually cuts all over her face. _How could they do something like this, and to a student?_

 _Well, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like it never happened before._

A small splatter of blood painted her robes, but her head was still raised high, and the expression on her face haughty. 

“Miss. Weasley. What did you do in Professor Carrow’s class?” Severus said quietly, pressing her for an answer. Ginny paused for a moment, seemed to think, before speaking. 

“I refused to do what he asked,” Ginny said, pride evident in her voice. 

“What did he ask of you?” Severus asked, mostly out of his own curiosity. 

“Why do you care?” The words seemed to have slipped out of Ginny’s mouth, but she didn’t seem to regret them. Severus repeated his question, a bit more persistent. 

“What did he ask of you?” Ginny was silent. Then she began to speak, slightly faster. 

“He asked me to admit that muggle-borns and muggles are useless and should be killed.” 

Even as she said this, Severus could see the hatred clearly etched on Ginny’s bloodied face. On the inside, Severus sighed. _Dear girl, why didn’t you just do what he asked? It could’ve spared you from all this._

“I see. Is it right to defy your professors?” Ginny didn’t reply, looking past Severus, at nothing in particular. 

“Is it?” Severus asked once more, determined to get Ginny to speak. She was still stubbornly silent. 

He decided to try a different tactic. 

“We both know they can get away with this. Even if they did the Cruciatus Curse.” Ginny’s eyes flickered over to his for a second, but then she went back over to staring at nothing in particular. She then suddenly spoke, the words coming out of her mouth sounding forced, as though pulled from her tongue. 

“I don’t care. I won’t do what the Carrows tell me to.” 

“Even with the Unforgivable Curses?” Severus pressed on firmly. 

“Like I said,” Ginny slightly snapped, “I don’t care.” 

“But I do.” The words escaped from Severus’ mouth naturally, before he could stop them. 

Ginny looked taken aback. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it soon after. She seemed on a verge of a discovery. 

Severus’ eyes flicked from Ginny’s cut arm, to her forehead. He looked Ginny straight in the eye. 

“I…may I leave?” Ginny muttered, then turned around and quickly left, leaving the door ajar behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bwomp! Thank you so much for reading! Love you <3


	13. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a somewhat troubling morning, Ginny enjoys Christmas.

_A knife’s blade gleamed in front of her; her reflection bouncing back. It sat on a beautiful mahogany table._

 _She was sitting on a hard, ice-cold surface—a chair. Ginny lifted her hand off of it, suddenly realising it was wet._

 _

Blood. Blood was smeared across her hand, fresh and dark, with the metallic scent Ginny had gotten so familiar with. 

She shivered, still not quite used to the horror of fresh blood, and looked around in the room she was in, trying to take her mind off it. She wiped the blood on her jeans. 

It was quite dark, Ginny had to squint to see her surroundings, or at least until her eyes adjusted, which still hadn’t happened yet. 

A hung from the cream wall. A coat of arms, with a large ‘M’ in the middle. Ginny immediately recognised it. 

Malfoy Manor? 

She had heard Ron complain about the family more than a few times; enough that she knew about them. Ginny had never really liked the pureblood family; according to Ron, they believed in blood purity and all that crap, just like the Carrows did. 

Thump. Thump. 

Ginny looked over to the sound, of footsteps coming closer to the room, through the tall, dark wooden door that she had curiously not noticed before. The silver door handle turned slowly, as if it knew Ginny was waiting for it. 

Professor Carrow. What is he doing in Malfoy Manor? 

His eyes glittered, his smile vile. “Such a pleasure to find you here, Miss. Weasley,” Professor Carrow sneered, walking up to the table. 

“Not as much as it is mine,” Ginny replied, sarcasm dripping from her voice as it did his. Professor Carrow didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, he didn’t seem to care. 

He raised his wand and muttered a spell. Ginny felt a sudden restraint around her arms, squeezing tighter the more she struggled. When she looked down, she was tied down to the hard backed chair by unseeable ropes. 

“You!” she seethed. Professor Carrow simply smiled at her, no warmness in the grin. She watched as he picked up the knife with his right hand and approached her, walking around the beautiful carved table, creating unbearable suspense. 

Ginny stared at him in horror when he pointed the knife at her cheek. Oh, come on, not again! 

“This is what you get for being a rude little girl,” he spat, his disgusting spit flying everywhere, smelling like onions and dirty socks, his trademark scent. Ginny raised her head high and closed her eyes, preparing for the familiar pain. 

It was rather quick; only a short cut in the cheek, but still, she could feel the blood trickle down her face. It came yet again, with no warning, to the other cheek. This time it felt deeper, stronger than the other one. Ginny didn’t even flinch. 

She felt a peculiar sense of deja-vu, but called it off as just a hallucination from the sting. She sat as still as possible, not wanting to give Professor Carrow the satisfaction of her pain. 

Ginny was succeeding, until the knife came to her throat. Professor Carrow smiled sweetly at her, mocking Ginny. She glared back at him, unresisting. He dug the knife farther into her skin, not enough to kill her, but still that she felt the pain slowly build up. 

Her vision was fading; Professor Carrow’s vile grin being the last thing she saw.

_

Ginny Weasley bolt out of her bed, gasping for air, her mind taking in the horrors of what she had just seen. How is that possible? she ran into the washroom, to look in the mirror. 

The horrors of cuts and gashes from the dream, were gone. Except there were two faint scars on both of her cheeks, and one right on her throat, a faded pink. 

They were in the same exact place as in the dream. Resisting a shiver, Ginny ran a finger over the scars, one by one. She tightly shut her eyes closed, remembering the torture a day ago. After a moment had passed, Ginny felt slightly better, and so she washed her face and brushed her teeth as quickly as she could. Her mind wandered back to the other day. 

She had, really, left Headmaster Snape’s office rather disrespectfully, but she didn’t care at that moment. But even so, her mind wandered to Snape’s words—or, rather, his actions. 

Was it really him? The saviour from her earliest torture? Or was he just messing with her mind? 

Ginny shook her head, pushing those thoughts away. Anyways, he hated her one way or another. It was probably just so she wouldn’t die, so he wouldn’t have to explain anything. 

Professor Carrow’s torture didn’t even hurt anymore, really, after all of the Cruciatus Curses she had gotten. Ginny placed a spell on the scars, hiding them from everyone else. She didn’t want people worrying about her; she could do things on her own. She didn’t need others’ help. _So this is how Professor McGonagall feels._

-+-+-+- 

Ginny walked back to her bed, and realised immediately that something had changed. She hadn’t noticed this during her dash to the bathroom, but she did now. The air felt colder, and she was aware that the usual, sunny light that shone through her windows every morning seemed different. It was more… pale, but somehow not in any way lacking in brightness. 

Squinting out the foggy window, Ginny gasped with excitement. 

At first, she could only see white. But after her eyes adjusted, Ginny swiveled her head around, taking in the view, amazed at the sight that lay outside her window. 

The world was blanketed with a thick layer of snow, sparkling in the light. Trees were covered with powdery frost. Even the Whomping Willow seemed more placated. Ginny noticed the webbed, patterned lines of ice framing her window. Beautiful feathers of downy snow drifted down from the pale sky. 

It had snowed, finally. _It’s, what, late December now? And—Merlin, it’s almost Christmas! I’ll get to see my family!_

Still smiling at the view, away from her thoughts before, Ginny got dressed, and walked out of her dorm much more cheerfully than when she had just woken up. She almost skipped as she walked to the Main Hall to eat. 

She saw Luna and Neville chatting amiably to each other. 

Luna quickly started up a conversation. 

“Look at the snow!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t it amazing?” Ginny nodded happily. 

The newfound weather seemed to lift almost everyone’s spirits, as the Great Hall seemed much louder and chattier this morning. 

And it wasn’t just the students, either. Even the professors seemed more in the holiday spirit—well, at least most of them. The Carrows and Snape were (obviously) not very cheerful; they acted like it was a normal day to them. As usual, Ginny thought, shrugging. _Too bad for them._

Even so, it still didn’t stop the other professors from spreading holiday cheer—throughout the week, in almost all of her classes, the professors were gradually starting to wear Christmas-themed, red-and-green clothes. 

Professor Trelawney had gone totally overboard, Ginny had heard, with red and green shimmering sparkles covering her entire body one day. 

Professor McGonagall had added a small wreath of holly to her hat; that seemed as far as she would go. 

But even more surprisingly, Snape seemed to be less grim than usual (if only a little). Ginny was extremely glad; it seemed (if only just for a month) as if everyone was finally happy. Enjoying Hogwarts. Making it their home. Just like old times. 

Luna slid over to where Ginny and Neville were chatting, during dinner. 

“Hi!” she said, glancing over at Neville. “I’ve got something D.A. related planned, just for the three of us, but it’s safer if we talk in the Room of Requirement. What do you think, Ginny?” Ginny was rather surprised for Luna to say that; it was normally her who called the meetings, but of course, she was fine with it. 

“Yeah, that sounds great! So, same time?” Luna and Neville agreed, and so it was decided. 

That night, Ginny entered the Room of Requirement, expecting a long night of planning and discussing, only to find something that was quite a shock. 

As soon as she opened the door, a cloud of glitter exploded out from what seemed to be nowhere, and Ginny found herself covering her eyes to prevent it from possibly blinding her. 

When she opened them, she drew in a sharp breath of surprise. 

A huge, shimmering banner swept from one side of the room to the other: MERRY CHRISTMAS, GINNY! Dozens of hand-cut snowflakes hung from the tall ceiling. 

And in the center of the room, where normally the table would be: 

Ginny’s eyes welled up with tears. It was a Christmas tree, but not just any Christmas tree. Pictures of Ginny, Harry, Neville, Luna, and all of her other friends, along with her family, hung from the towering pine tree. Pictures of them together, having fun, laughing like she hadn’t had in a long time. 

Upon further inspection, she realised they were Muggle-pictures; they didn’t seem to move. But Ginny didn’t mind—not at all, no. It seemed even better this way. 

She walked around the tree, gazing at the pictures, lost in her nostalgia. 

“So!” Neville suddenly broke the silence, jolting Ginny from her thoughts. “Um… so, what do you think?” he looked strangely nervous. “I, uh, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you… we stayed up all night, along with sending letters to your dad, for the pictures, I mean.” Ginny noticed for the first time, the dark shadows ringing Neville and Luna’s eyes. but she didn’t say anything, simply stared, speechless. 

Luna shifted on her feet. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t ask for your permission to sent letters to your dad, I mean, we wanted this to be a surprise. So, do you like it?” Luna tentatively asked. 

“I…” Ginny found her voice. “This… this is amazing. You are the best friends that anyone could ever ask for!” Neville and Luna broke into relieved smiles. Ginny thanked them repeatedly, as the three shared a group hug. 

Later, as they all sat around the round table, which was pushed to the side to make room for the tree, Ginny found that it was a group effort. 

As told by Neville and Luna, they had wanted to give Ginny a surprise ever since they found out about her torture. Ginny smiled then, relieved that she didn’t try and dig deeper into their secret conversations. They both agreed that the best time would be during Christmas, and sent letters to Ginny’s family as to ask for ideas. 

Neville pointed out Ginny’s sparkling hair, and her dyed red-and-green clothes, courtesy of Fred and George. And Ginny’s father had always been fascinated by Muggle technology; it was his idea to gather non-moving photos of Ginny to decorate the tree with. 

Neville was aghast to find that the small pouch of powder George and Fred had mailed to them (which was in fact the same type as the one Ginny threw at the wolf), did not wash off. In fact, even after nearly twenty minutes of scrubbing, the colour remained, still as eye-catching as ever. 

Ginny, thankfully, found this incredibly amusing, and vowed to “return the favour someday”. 

The three of them sat around the table, and with the fire roaring and the tree glittering, they chatted on and on, happier than ever. 

That night, well past midnight, Ginny drifted to sleep, finally having peaceful dreams in what seemed like years. 

-+-+-+- 

_Why am I on the floor?_ was the first thought that came to Ginny’s mind, as she slowly stirred into consciousness. She was, indeed, on the floor, and wrapped in a cozy sleeping bag. 

A fireplace, not quite burned out, luminated the intricate snowflakes hanging from the too-high-to-be-hers ceiling. And the Christmas tree, pictures still unmoving, lights still flickering, looked beautiful as ever. 

A grin crept on Ginny’s face as she took in the sight, recalling the previous night bit by bit. 

She checked her watch. 10:53, AM, blinked back. 

Ginny relaxed from her burst of panic; as she had realised it was Sunday. And the last day of Hogwarts! Mixed anticipation and sadness, but Ginny pushed those feeling away as her eye caught a sleeping Neville and Luna. Ginny smiled slyly as she crept towards them, and… 

“WAKE UP! MERRY CHRISTMAS!” she shouted, breaking off with a uncontrollable laugh. Luna awoke almost immediately, smiling sleepily at Ginny. Neville groaned, buried his head into his pillow, and slept. 

“Hey, sleepyhead!” Luna called out. 

“It’s almost eleven! Get up!” Ginny teased. 

“Easy for you to say,” a muffled voice responded, “Luna and I stayed up the entire night yesterday!” 

“Well, I’m up, aren’t I?” Luna retorted. 

After five more minutes of irritable pestering, Neville finally rose, rubbing his eyes. 

“There might be presents in our dorms!” 

“No worries,” said Luna breezily. “We can just teleport our presents here!” Everyone agreed, and so Ginny closed her eyes. She imagined her dorm, and her presents (if there were any) lying on her desk, in front of her. As she concentrated, she heard a faint “pop!” and opened her eyes, satisfied. 

Her presents were on the large, oval sized table in the middle of the room. And beside it, two more were stacked up. Ginny glanced over at Neville, who was already beginning to rip over his presents eagerly, and thought that she should do the same. 

After a short while of pondering, Ginny decided to open the closest present—a wonky-shaped box, covered with gold and blue wrapping paper. Ginny started opening it, at first gently peeling off the tape, but soon growing antsy, and just ripping off the paper. It was a box, patterned with red and green candy canes. 

As Ginny opened the lid, a cloud of powdery red-green-silver substance billowed over her. As the fog cleared, Ginny rolled her eyes in amusement as her body was now not only green-and-red, but now also speckled with silver reindeer. Oh, Fred and George. Ginny reached into the box (which was also stained with reindeer) and pulled out… another box. And in that, another. This continued on with three more boxes, and just when Ginny was about to give up and move on to a different present, she came across a tiny jewellery box with a tab. 

Bracing herself for whatever was going to happen, Ginny pulled the tab— 

And the box exploded. 

Neville and Luna both looked up from their own present opening and gawked as various sweets rained down from high above. The candies were of many colours and sizes, mostly red and green, continuing on with the Christmas theme. A few chocolate reindeer danced out, literally, floating around Ginny, leaving a silver sugar path behind them. Neville gasped, and quickly grabbed fistfuls of as much candy as he could find. 

He ate the first chocolate frog in the handful of his candy almost immediately. Ginny laughed, and then noticed a card amongst the many, many pieces of candy. 

_Hey sis! Do you like your gift? We hope you did—it took us forever to gather this much. Eat them at your own risk, though—we added some, er, things to some of them._

And after Ginny read the letter to that part, she was interrupted by Neville as he yelped in surprise. Ginny glanced over and covered her mouth with her hand, as she took in the scene. 

Neville’s usually-brown hair was bright green, and shimmered in the light of the crackling fire. 

Luna gasped. Ginny snorted. And Neville groaned. 

“One chocolate frog, and this happens?” Ginny grinned, and continued to read. 

Oh, and don’t worry about gaining any weight, either. Just swallow the pill on the bottom of this letter, and you’ll be completely fine! (Probably.) 

Right after Ginny had finished that sentence, she ripped off the hastily taped on pill (which was indeed at the bottom of the letter), and threw it in the fire, having learned far earlier not to trust anything by George or Fred that should “help”. 

Ginny watched, not entirely surprised, as the fire suddenly shrunk down to the size of a sputtering candle flame. _Wow, glad I didn’t eat that,_ Ginny quipped as she relit the fire, and finished the letter. 

_We look forwards to seeing you! There are even more presents at home!”_

-George and Fred 

Ginny smiled at her brothers’ goofy, but still heartwarming, letter. She set it aside, and went on the the next gift. This one was meticulously wrapped, with a handmade card on top. Ginny read the card—it was Mum, with warm wishes for a safe trip, and so on. It was placed on Fred and George’s card, to read over later on. 

Ginny opened the present, and was not surprised to find, of course, jumpers. She picked up a neon red and green one _(how did Mum get neon wool?)_ and frowned at it. It was hideous. But still, Ginny put it on—at least it hid her read-green-and-silver glitter-covered body (her face, on the other hand, was unmistakably patterned. She didn’t know how it would ever get off, nor did she really care at the moment). 

There were two sweaters left it the box, in which Ginny decided they would be for Luna and Neville. 

As she gave out her sweaters, Luna and Neville each presented to Ginny their gifts to her; which were stunning (especially since they had already gave her one), and made Ginny incredibly guilty for not preparing one for them. 

“What? With everything going on? No, don’t worry; you’ve been through more terrible things than the two of us had combined, of course we wouldn’t expect you to get a gift!” Luna responded breezily to Ginny’s apology, in which Neville agreed wholeheartedly. 

The day passed on, in which Ginny spent a large half of it reuniting with her friends, treasuring the moments before there would be dinner, then sleep, then the train. 

While chatting aimlessly with Logan (well, after his shock of her painted face), he gave Ginny a sudden idea: 

“It’s too bad D.A. is canceled for now. Well, it’s for the best; Hogwarts isn’t as safe as before.” And with that, Ginny blurted out, 

“Y’know, we could always just hand out papers on the train.” Logan looked at her, mouth slightly open. 

“That’s actually a great idea! There should be new Quibbler papers out by now, are there?” 

Logan discussed the plan with Ginny some more, fine-tuning until it was near-perfect. Ginny waved goodbye to Logan as he left for his dorm, feeling refound energy. She left Logan, and went to find Luna for the plan. 

Luna and Neville, were both equally excited by Ginny’s idea. Luna had another copy of the new Quibbler that her father had mailed to her, and Neville decided to be the person who would hand out most of the papers (“it’s my turn to do something dangerous!”), and so they agreed. 

They were so busy talking, that Ginny gasped as she caught a glance at her watch, seeing that it was fifteen minutes until dinner. She and her friends ran down to the Great Hall and the scene that greeted them took Ginny’s breath away. She could tell from the faint gasps around her that her friends were amazed too. 

The Great Hall was sprinkling with beautiful sparkles of snow, falling everywhere it could. The white snow matched the kind outside, the one that made Ginny truly smile. 

There were five large Christmas trees, each at the front of the hall, two on both sides of the staff table, and two right behind that. The fifth sat in the middle, draped in red and white decorations. Each tree was topped with a star; gold, silver, or bronze. 

They were all breathtaking, yes, but the Gryffindor tree was the one that truly made Ginny gasp. (Or perhaps she was biased, she might never know.) It was the same height as the others, but the blaring red brought out the evergreen of the tree, and the sparkling gold tinsel accented it further. 

It reminded her of her family tree. The one they would put up months earlier, when they were already giddy with anticipation. The tree that made Ginny shake her fist at Fred and George from another tree-involving antic, countless times. And sure, it wasn’t as big, or as beautiful in that matter than the Gryffindor tree, but nevertheless it was home. 

A warm feeling wrapped around Ginny, as if her home was with her, that very moment. 

Neville nudged her gently. “Better get to our seats.” Ginny nodded absentmindedly, still soaking in the scene in front of her, trying to capture it in her mind, as if she would never see it again. 

It seemed like the rumors about Professor Trelawney were true. She was dressed in what seemed like a half green, half red robe, completely draped with green and red sparkles. She had on an oversized Santa hat, with what looked like a lump of snow on top of it. 

It seemed like while she was eating, some of the snow was falling into her food, seeming like a dusting of powdered sugar. Ginny hoped it wasn’t poisonous. 

Professor Sprout, also wearing Christmas attire (although not as overboard as Professor Trelawney, who was to her right) was talking quietly to Professor Flitwick. Professor McGonagall was sitting beside Sprout, seeming, finally, happy. Mind you, not cheerful, per se—maybe more peaceful, at-ease. 

Snape sat beside her, honestly never looking worse, and the Professor Carrows to the other side. Neither of them showed any awareness to it being Christmas—their robes were still the same dark, depressing black. At least Professor McGonagall had holly around her hat. _Oh well. Guess there’s no fixing some people._

Just as Ginny began to eat, having surveyed the scene, Snape stood up. “Good evening. Today you ungrateful brats will be leaving this place. I hope you will have an amazing Christmas,” Snape sneered, not even trying to sound genuine. Ginny glared at him. But then she thought of something, and relaxed her face. Snape couldn’t, no, Snape wouldn’t, ruin Christmas. Not this year. 

So instead, she plastered a fake smile on her face. 

“Once you brats come back, oh, and how I dread that day, we will begin with classes immediately. No dilly-dallying. Not like that old senile idiot. 

“You may now begin your dinner,” Snape finished and sat down, picking up his fork to eat. 

Ginny scowled into her plate. She did notice that McGonagall flinched when Snape said ‘old senile idiot’, just like Ginny had. 

She looked around her. The room had broke into a warm chatter, as if Snape hadn’t spoke at all. Well, might as well enjoy it like they are. 

Ginny still couldn’t believe it—very soon, in mere hours probably, she would see her family again. She dug into her meal; she didn’t realise that she was hungry until she smelt the food. Ginny listened to the chatter around her, and joined in when she felt she needed too, though she was mostly just enjoying the amazing feast. 

Dinner flew by, and Ginny excused herself from the table once she was full. She hated how Snape was ruining her Christmas Feast, though faking happiness didn’t really seem to help her mood. It sort of even made it worse; like the false sense of happiness made Ginny realise how gloomy she really was. 

She wandered down the halls, lost in thought, about her family, about Hogwarts, about everything in general. Is Harry OK? Are Ron and Hermione OK? 

After a long time of just meandering down the halls, occasionally passing some students, the clock tower struck seven o’clock. Ginny ran down to the common room, taking the most direct and shortest route possible; she didn’t want to get caught by the Carrows, even if it wasn’t curfew yet. 

Ginny reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, and gave her the password. 

She was greeted with a warm rush of air and the scent of burning marshmallows. The fires were burning bright and sometimes sending sparks flying. The room was mostly empty, though it still had that ‘home’ vibe. 

Ginny found the familiar figure of Neville Longbottom lounging in a armchair by a crackling fireplace. He seemed to be reading something. Ginny approached him silently, and found in his hand a copy of the Daily Prophet. Displayed across the top of the paper was “Harry Potter, Undesirable No. 1.” 

Ginny scanned the paper, looking for the date. It said Sept 24th. How could she have known so late? How did she not keep up? _What an idiot you are, Ginny._

She tapped Neville on the back, asking for his attention. He nearly jumped out of his seat, and turned around hurriedly to see who had startled him. 

“Ginny? Merlin’s beard!” 

“Sorry Neville. What’s that paper you’re holding?” Ginny asked innocently. Neville looked down in his hands to what she was referring to. 

“Oh. This. Well, this is a really old copy of the Prophet that I found, just lying on Professor Carrow’s desk,” Neville explained, staring at the paper. Ginny was shocked. 

“Professor Carrow’s desk?” she asked incredulously. 

“Yep. It was just lying there, for everyone to see.” Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Really! It was! I didn’t purposely try to nick it!” 

“OK. Sure you didn’t.” Ginny droned. “Can I read it?” And before he even had said yes, Ginny grabbed the article from his hands. 

“Hey! Ginny!” Neville stood up and reached for the newspaper, but Ginny raised it out of his reach. 

“Finders keepers!” Ginny teased. Neville rolled his eyes, but didn’t do anything. She then plopped herself down in front of the armchair that Neville once sat in, and began to read. 

“Harry Potter, Undesirable No. 1. Harry Potter is on the run, from what you may ask?” Ginny read the first part out loud, but Neville then grabbed the paper back from her. 

“Don’t read it here! I’ll give it to you on the train. Promise,” Neville said, his voice laced with panic. 

“But why not—” Ginny’s question trailed off as she realised why. If anyone heard her reading the article out loud, they would definitely suspect something. Ginny nodded. 

Neville yawned, rubbed his eyes, and said, “Well, I’m going to bed early.” Ginny was just about to ask why, having blanked out for a second, but then remembered that they were going home tomorrow. Home! 

“Of course!” Ginny chirped, a bit suddenly. “Goodnight, Neville!” 

“Goodnight Ginny,” Neville responded, and left. She watched as Neville walked up the stairs to his dormitory, and thought that she ought to do the same. _Big day ahead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you excuse the beginning, this was a somewhat "break", for both you guys and me (and for Ginny as well :P). Although we're as far from the holiday season as we'll ever get...


	14. Luna Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the train back to Hogwarts, something surprising happens.

The snow fluttered down, soft and gentle, landing all over her clothes, a new coat of white. Ginny could see the sparkling specks of shimmering snow landing on her shoulder, and in the hair of the people around her. They were all wrapped in large, warm coats, trying to keep out of the freezing cold. She didn't bring her Pygmy Puff, Arnold—this time, Ginny felt that he would be better off at home. 

Behind her was her mother, standing with a bag clutched in her gloved hand and her wand grasped tightly in the other. Ginny walked in front of her mother, through the gently falling snow and past the rush of people on the platform, trying her best to avoid both. 

Neville and Luna had agreed to meet her at the engine of the train, the very front. Ginny quickened her pace, wanting to see her friends again. Her mother followed her, her wand still out, but not pointed at anybody. 

When the fog began to thin and as she approached the engine, she caught sight of two very distinct figures. A boy and a girl standing side by side, seeming to be in a deep conversation. The boy was in a familiar knitted jumper, and had snow-speckled blonde hair and brown eyes. The girl beside him had dirty-blonde hair with bright blue eyes, and there seemed to be radishes dangling from her ears. She held a copy of what Ginny assumed to be The Quibbler. 

Luna waved, spotting her, and Ginny walked briskly to her friends, her mother right behind her. 

"Hello Luna, Neville," her mother greeted even before Ginny could. 

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Weasley," Neville greeted politely. 

"Hello Mrs. Weasley, the Babliming Wrackspurt said that I would see you again," Luna chirped in a slightly disorientated voice. Ginny's mother had a confused expression on her face, but, for her part, didn't say anything about it. 

_DING! DING!_ The train's bell suddenly rang in their ears, making them all jump. 

"I guess we have to go now, Mum," Ginny said sadly. Her mother pulled her in for a tight hug. 

"I will see you again, my little girl. Write to me, OK?" her mother whispered into her ear. Ginny nodded, tears also starting to sparkle in her eyes. 

"OK. I promise!" 

Ginny began to place her things into the train, seeing as Neville and Luna were doing so. She jumped in right when the train had begun to move. "Bye Mum!" She shouted out a train window. 

"Bye, Ginny dear!" Her mother had raised a handkerchief to her face and Ginny could see tears coming from honey brown eyes that she had inherited. Her left hand was upraised in a wave goodbye. Ginny slightly leaned out of the door, and waved a last farewell to her mother. 

"Bye Mum! I'll miss you!" But her mother didn't seem to have heard, for her back was turned and she had began to leave. Ginny stepped back into the train car and faced Luna and Neville. 

"Hi Luna, Neville!" She had barely any time to speak, for they had engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug. 

"God, Ginny, we’ve missed you!" They both cried out. 

"Me too. Me too," Ginny replied in the same tone, hugging them back. After another moment, Ginny slowly pulled back. "Let's get this stuff into the department," she said, referring to the snow covered luggage. 

Ginny, with a quick swipe of her gloved hand, swept the thin layer of sparkling snow off of the trunk, and from her friends’ luggage, too. Neville and Luna both nodded and helped Ginny drag their trunks into the car, and place them above and below their seats. 

Once they finished, Neville dusted his hands off and placed them on his hips, satisfied. 

"There. Done." 

Ginny beamed as she admired their work. The trunks and baggages were neatly arranged and it fit perfectly into the compartment, with no space left over. Ginny wasn't really much of a neat freak, but she felt like she was ready for a new year. 

Neville sat down on the seat across from her, and Luna joined him. Ginny felt the movement of the train, the smooth sliding wheels run across the train tracks, creating a slight jolt, but nothing much. 

She stared out the large, rectangular window. Large, snow covered fields zoomed before her eyes, the snow draped trees reminding her of the ones in her own backyard. The world was covered in a white blanket of snow, making it seem innocent and clean, free of disease, free of war, free of heartache, free of death. _If only that’s how things really were._

Luna’s airy voice brought her out of her thoughts, her head turning away from the snow covered world to the real one, the one where people were killed out of pure spite, the one where family turned on family, and friend on friend. 

“Ginny? What’s your opinion?” Ginny’s head snapped to the voice. She opened her mouth, blank-minded. Ginny had no idea whatsoever about what they were talking about. 

“What?” She mumbled, slightly embarrassed. Luna then elbowed Neville. 

“Told you she wasn’t listening,” she said with a sly smirk on her face. Neville rolled his eyes. 

“Well, we were talking about how far D.A. would’ve gone if we hadn’t ended it,” Neville explained. Ginny nodded absentmindedly; her heart wasn’t into it. She didn’t really want to talk about D.A. right now. At the moment, she just wanted to be back at home with her family. 

_BOOM._ A large sound from behind them caused all three people to jerk their heads back. The three then looked at each other, wide-eyed and startled. It happened again. 

Then, the train suddenly stopped, the trio lurching forwards in their seats, Neville and Ginny’s heads almost colliding. She felt the tickle of his hair on her forehead, a split second before it was gone, all of them sitting back into their seats. 

Ginny looked out of her window, but the scene was still as innocent as can be, and there was no disturbance in the world covered in a snow blanket of white. 

Then the screaming started. It was ringing strong and loud in her ears. She bent over, as if that could make the tortuous high-pitched sound stop. 

Ginny knew that Neville and Luna had heard it too, for they had, too, clasped their hands over their ears. The piercing shriek continued, until suddenly, it stopped, as quickly as it came. 

Ginny slowly uncurled from her kneeling position, and seeing that the coast was clear, sat back up. Neville and Luna did the same, following Ginny’s actions. 

“What was that?” Ginny whispered, as if she spoke any louder the screaming would come back. Neville shook his head, as confused as Ginny. 

“I’m not sure,” Neville replied in the same tone. Luna shrugged, mystified. 

A long moment of silence. It was one of those times where no one knew what to do; everyone was waiting for something to happen. And strangely, almost always, it did. 

Just as Ginny was about to dismiss the enigma and began to settle down, the door of their compartment burst open, revealing two men dressed in long, black robes with deathly-white masks. 

Death Eaters. One grasped a wand tight in his hand. 

The Death Eater spoke. “Where is Luna Lovegood?” he asked roughly, in a raspy, deep voice. Ginny stared at him as she frantically tried to think of a plan. Ginny looked up at the Death Eater, feigning innocence. 

“Luna’s not here, sir, I think you have the wrong compartment,” she said, trying her best to sound honest, drawing herself taller in her seat. She gazed up at the man, stare unwavering, seemingly guiltless. 

The Death Eater hesitated, as Ginny relaxed, but then the man behind him spoke. 

“She should be here, the girl with red hair is her friend and so is the Longbottom boy,” the second Death Eater said in a deep whisper, though Ginny still caught the words. She looked at the man in the back, and froze. 

It was the same Death Eater. The one that almost took Mum. Even though the two men were dressed exactly the same, somehow, Ginny knew that it was the same person. 

She stole a glance at Luna, who had tensed up considerably too; her hand was lingering at the place where her wand was held. 

“Sirs, I think you really do have the wrong compartment, I saw Luna in the compartment to the left, just a minute ago,” Ginny said politely, once again trying to get rid of the Death Eaters, especially now that she recognised one of them. She shook inwardly, praying that would be enough for them to leave. 

But just when Ginny had relaxed, thinking she had done it, the second Death Eater pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Luna. 

“That’s her, grab her and let’s go!” 

Chaos burst out. Ginny could feel herself instinctively pull out her wand and shot a spell at the first Death Eater, only to miss. To her left, Neville’s wand was out too and he was rapidly shooting curses at the second Death Eater, who was trying to grab Luna’s arm. Luna herself had her wand pulled out and she was standing up in the small compartment, firing curses left and right. 

Then, a flash of bright green light blinded Ginny, and she fell to the ground, her hands scraping the hard floor. 

She felt herself slowly open her eyes. The compartment was empty of Death Eaters. Neville sat to the right of her. Ginny’s eyes scanned frantically around the small room. 

“Where’s Luna?” she whispered, still in shock. Neville’s eyes widened. 

“They took her,” he said in a small voice, and then louder, “THEY TOOK HER!” Neville got up in rage and brandished his wand belligerently. 

Ginny quickly stood up too and placed a pacifying hand on Neville’s arm. 

“We’ll get her back,” she said, looking into Neville’s warm brown eyes. He stared back at her, questioning her wordlessly, as if she was lying. 

She wasn’t, not anymore. 

“I promise.” Neville nodded, not taking his eyes of Ginny, and once again sat back down on the seat across from her, still a bit reluctantly. 

The train had seemed to have started moving again, the world outside of them once again becoming a blur. The rest of the train ride was sat in silence, the pair lost in their thoughts, thinking about how they could’ve saved their friend. 

-+-+-+- 

Luna gradually woke up, and found herself in a dark, cold room. As her eyes began to adjust, she realised that she was sitting on the floor, which was hard stone, and in some areas fuzzy moss. 

The room she was in had one small, depressing window up in the northwest corner. It was surrounded with thick iron bars. A pale ray of sunlight streamed weakly and meekly into the small, square room. Then, she was interrupted from her scrutinisation, as Luna heard a quiet whimper from in front of her. 

Her eyes scanned the area of where it had came from. Bright blue eyes settled on a old, frail, slim man, lying on the floor of the room, just beside Luna. His white hair glinted in the weak light and his pale silver eyes were filled with fear. And as Luna further studied him, she thought she recognised him, perhaps in a less dire moment, when the man was not battered and terrified. 

He was dressed in ripped and torn black-and-white robes, filthy with dust and dirt. The haggard man whimpered yet again. 

“Are you OK, sir?” whispered Luna, concern laced into her voice. She slowly walked closer to the whimpering man, not wanting to scare him any further than he already was. 

No response. 

Luna tried again. “Sir, are you OK?” Still no response. _Is this a test? Is the man supposed to do something? Or am I to do something?_

Luna patted down her pocket quickly, checking for her wand. It was empty; she couldn’t feel the familiar shape of the long, thin stick that was her defensive weapon. So instead, she tried again to help the man. 

Luna stretched her arm out, but then hesitated. 

Maybe that wasn’t the best idea. She could shock him, and Luna would have an even smaller chance of getting him to speak. 

So she withdrew the hand, and opened her mouth instead. “Hello, sir. I’m Luna Lovegood, I’m from Hogwarts. I was sorted into Ravenclaw house,” Luna said softly, trying not to startle him. She sat down on the floor, at eye level with the frail man. Luna felt a spark of hope, as his eyes seemed to have lit up at her name. 

“Lovegood?” he asked, his voice coming out raspy and rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time. Luna nodded, relieved to have broken through. 

“I remember your wand. Eleven inches, cedar, unicorn tail. Am I right?” he said, his eyes becoming brighter, the fear seeming to leave them as he continued to speak. 

“Yes!” Luna was quite surprised. How does he know her wand? 

The old man sat up, wincing, still leaning against the stone wall. And as if he had heard her thoughts, 

“I am very sorry, dear, I haven’t gotten the chance to introduce myself. I am Garrick Ollivander,” he said, his voice becoming even stronger with each word. 

Luna drew back, mildly surprised. She remembered Ollivander—the owner of the wand store. 

She sized up the man in front of her skeptically. Her mind just couldn’t see the connection between the wise and mysterious man of Ollivander’s to this shivering, pale, frightened person. 

"Pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Ollivander.” Luna quickly said, realising she had zoned out. 

“Please, just call me Ollivander,” the old man replied, not seeming to have noticed Luna’s pause. Luna nodded absentmindedly. 

“Where are we?” she asked tentatively, partially not wanting to know. She fiddled with her fingers, looking down at her lap. Ollivander sighed. 

“We are in Malfoy Manor. You-Know-Who brought me here, wanting to know about the cores of the relationship between his and Harry Potter’s wands,” the older man explained quietly. 

“Oh.” Luna had nothing else to say. The pair lapsed into silence, both man and girl lost in their own thoughts. 

"Miss. Lovegood, may I ask, why are you here?" the old man suddenly asked her. She turned to face him. 

"Please, call me Luna. I'm not sure why they took me here in the first place myself,” she shrugged. “I was on the Hogwarts Express, and two Death Eaters came out of nowhere," she explained, easily recalling the moment. Ollivander nodded, seemingly deep in thought. 

"Are your friends troublesome to the Death Eater professors there?" Ollivander asked. Luna's eyes widened. 

"How do you know about the Carrows?" 

The old man gave her a slight smile, his chapped lips quirking up. "I hear things,” he said, his smile disappearing. “All different kinds of things, things about evil, betrayal, plans to kill," the older man broke off with a visible shudder, as if the mere thought of the conversations he had heard scared him to no end. Luna was intrigued. 

"What things?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better part of her. Ollivander shook his head angrily. 

"Things you don't want to hear, my dear child. Things that would strip away the rare innocence that you have," the man said. _As if it wasn't already gone._

They fell, once again, into silence, until Luna noticed that the man had begun to shiver. 

"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned again. 

"I'm fine. Just the cell is damp and cold." Luna nodded, understanding what he was saying. The man shifted a bit in his position. He winced once more. Luna, her mind flashing back to the aftermaths of her friend being tortured by the Carrows, to the books she had studied after, knew what was wrong. 

"Have you… been tortured?" asked Luna timidly. Ollivander's head shot up immediately. 

"How did you know?" he asked in shock, very much like how Luna was a few moments ago. 

"I have seen it," Luna said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

The older man's eyes widened. "Simply seen it? Or experienced it?" Ollivander pressed. He seemed suddenly curious, eyes brighter than before. 

A horrid thought shot through Luna's mind. She stood up as fast as she could. 

"What are you doing?" Luna ignored the man, then backed away from him. How could've she been so stupid? 

"What was my father's wand?" she asked sharply, knowing that the real Ollivander would know the answer to the question. The old man noticeably relaxed as he realised what Luna was doing. 

"Thirteen inches, cherry, flimsy, and dragonheart string. Rather powerful wand," Ollivander said confidently. Luna sighed in relief. 

“What was your mother’s wand?” he questioned, staring Luna in the eye. She said the answer in the same tone as Ollivander’s. They both relaxed. 

"Sorry sir, but I had to check," she apologised. Ollivander waved it away. 

"It's fine. I should’ve." Luna then voiced another question she had, feeling more confident now. 

"Does anyone else know that you are here? Like, other than me and the Death Eaters," she clarified. 

"I'm not sure," he said, shrugging his bony shoulders. "Do you have your wand?" 

Luna was surprised at the rather blunt, and off-topic question. But before she could answer, the door of the cell opened, light suddenly streaming into the small, dark room. A grating, unrecognisable voice that sent shivers down Luna’s back joined in on their conversation. 

"No. But I do." 

-+-+-+- 

Ginny stared out of the window of the compartment, her mind compulsively replaying the past few minutes over and over again. She should've just stunned the Death Eater! She should've stunned him in a second, and they would’ve been done and Luna would still be with them, sitting right beside her. 

The world, covered in the same innocent snow blanket, zoomed by her, everything a blur of white. How Ginny wished, that what the world seemed like from this speeding train, was how it really could be. 

A world that was young and pure. If only there was a world where everyone was legitimately happy, and everyone was fine with what they needed. A place where Ginny didn't have to wait fruitlessly to hear news about her family, a place where Luna would still be in their compartment, chattering away, a place where she wouldn't have to live in constant fear. A place where she wouldn't have to worry about everyone close to her dying. 

Ginny slumped on her chair, seemingly exhausted from her thinking. _If only._

Neville's voice (thankfully) brought her out of her thoughts. 

"It's not your fault, Ginny," he said softly. She looked at him. 

"It is." Neville quickly shook his head. 

"You know it isn't. Ginny, it isn't worth the time thinking about what could've happened. It's pointless. You can't travel back in time, you don't have a time turner. And even if you did, it wouldn't change anything," he reasoned, placing his hand on Ginny’s leg. She shook her head. 

“It was my fault,” Ginny whispered, her hand reaching up to her mouth to cover it. 

“It wasn’t, Ginny. There was nothing you could’ve done. Luna will be fine. She can make it on her own. They won’t kill her, they must’ve taken her for some kind of hostage,” Neville said reassuringly. But if they’re not going to kill her, what else will they do? 

But Ginny simply nodded and continued to stare out of the window, at the now snow-covered forest zooming by. Neville lifted his hand off of Ginny’s knee, and stared the other way. The pair sat the rest of the way to Hogwarts in a deep, mourning silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you've enjoyed this chapter! <3


	15. Back to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny and Neville's carriage gets a whomping, attracting Professor McGonagall's attention.

The ringing of the train bell, added with the sudden brake, jolted Ginny forwards, and thus awakening her from her sleep. They were back. 

Ginny glanced out of the window, both eager and somehow still feeling dread, forming a strange emotion boiling up inside her. Hogwarts looked the same as before, the tall, towering turrets with bright windows, lit up with candles, and the lake shining a dark, navy blue, almost a black. It looked like home. From the outside, at least. 

For Ginny knew that inside the castle, and the reason for her dread, were the Carrows. Her mind flashed back to what they looked like, their flat, doughy, pale faces, the vile grins plastered over them. 

Ginny shivered, and turned her head away, her eye catching Neville, not wanting to see Hogwarts. 

But seeing Neville’s joy of being back to the place that Ginny knew that he called home, him too scanning the premises, Ginny gritted her teeth. 

_How dare the Carrows take away my source of happiness?_ Now, with Luna gone, and her family scattered all over the place… Hogwarts was the only thing Ginny had left. Even with her friends—these days, the only time she ever had an actual chat, that was not about torture, the Carrows, or Dumbledore’s Army… 

Was around Christmas, the time when she didn’t think, didn’t let herself think, about any of that. 

She missed the times where they could talk freely, freely about things that other people wouldn’t care about, freely about family, freely about loved ones. She missed the times were they could laugh without fear, love without fear, hope without fear. 

So Ginny promised herself; _I will not, will not, let the Carrows succeed. See how they react to me ignoring, forgetting, their threats, their torture._

It would be awful to force herself to be happy, Ginny knew. She tried before. But it wouldn’t hurt to just not worry, right? 

Ginny closed her eyes, took a deep breath. _Luna is safe. She’s strong, she’ll make it on her own, like you should, too._

And almost miraculously, it felt as if a weight on her shoulders had lessened a little; like she could breath easier. As though just thinking positively about something, lifted some of the worry. 

“Hey, Ginny.” Neville’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Ginny looked at Neville. He was smiling, but in a way, Ginny noticed now, that wasn’t out of pure happiness. It was a smile to stay strong, keep moving. Moving towards the hope of this all ending, the war, the fear. 

Ginny realised with a start that Neville had been, and was right now, doing the exact same thing Ginny was just trying to do. This time, she truly saw Neville, tired and mourning, but still smiling through the ashes, a hopeful, strong, bitter smile. Not bothering to mask the sorrow, but, on the other hand, not forcing himself to be extensively cheerful—Ginny suddenly found an immense respect for him. 

She smiled back. And together, they walked out of the train, and to Hogwarts. 

Ginny, stretching out her legs, walked dreadfully and slowly in the direction of a large carriage, the ride to Hogwarts. She could feel the chill of the cold winter wind on her exposed skin, and pulled her jacket tighter around her body. 

Multiple times she had turned around, wondering why Luna was being so quiet. Every time, Neville would lift his head and see Ginny staring, a mask of shock plastered over her freckled face. He would then give that weary smile, which Ginny tried her best to give back. The pair stopped at the carriage. 

Their ride was surprisingly bumpy; Ginny found herself constantly jolting. _Hmm. I don’t remember this. But then again, it’s been six months._

As the wooden, leather seated carriage hitched yet again, Ginny resigned to gazing at Hogwarts, far away but the glowing windows still visible. She found herself staring at a window that was lit, and was the only light-filled one out of many. And as she looked, nothing really in her mind, Ginny was surprised at a sight; she thought that she saw a figure move around. 

Ginny would’ve been more suspicious, but the past events had dazed her, caused her to just zone out and relax for a while. She was not really looking at where the carriage was going anymore. 

She should have payed more attention. In a split second, the carriage violently careened to the left, and it, along with it Ginny and Neville, all pitched to the side. 

Ginny blinked, unmoving, in utter confusion. One second, she was glaring at where she thought Professor Carrow’s office was, the lit window. Now, the carriage was completely off-course, and heading for— 

“GINNY!” Neville shouted. He tackled Ginny off the malfunctioning vehicle, jumping away from the rampaging carriage right after her, tumbling into the cold, wet, snow. 

Just a moment after, the carriage smashed head-first into the Whomping Willow. 

Ginny watched, staring, horrified, as the branches of the snow-covered tree immediately torn the strong, dark spruce carriage into smithereens. Clouds of powdery snow billowed over them, and occasionally the broken wood of the carriage would fly out, pelting Ginny, who honestly didn’t care anymore. 

_That could have been me!_

She turned her head, looking at Neville, who, to be fair, looked equally as dazed. His hair was rumpled, messed up, and a mixture of ice and snow was tangled between the strands of hair. It reminded Ginny of Harry. _Neville… he saved my life._

Ginny didn’t know what to do. It was like Luna’s capture all over again; she was too caught up in her own troubles to help anyone. Not even herself. 

_Oh, no, not this time!_ Ginny thought, suddenly angry. 

“Thank you, Neville. Now let’s get walking, we don’t want to be late,” Ginny spoke, rather sharply, and turned around, walking towards the dark castle. She promptly dusted off the snow on her clothes, once again wrapping her coat tighter around her shivering body. 

_Why did you do that? He saved your life, and you just say a quick thanks?_

 _Well, what else could I do?_

Ginny argued with herself, _I can’t really apologise now, can I?_

“Um… Ginny, you okay?” A quiet voice interrupted her mental argument. 

Ginny whirled around, unintentionally glaring. “What?” she said, a bit too loudly. 

Neville stood, wide-eyed and startled. “I, uh, nevermind.” Neville muttered. He looked… almost afraid of Ginny. 

_Do it! Do it now!_ urged the voice, gradually becoming louder. And looking at Neville and his snow covered face… Ginny softened, and made herself let go of her pride. 

“Neville… I’m sorry. This is just really stressful. I would be dead now if it weren’t for you.” Ginny spoke softly, as if trying not to scare him away. 

Neville looked at Ginny. “Yeah, it’s OK. You’re stressed, I get it.” That’s what I’m feeling right now, his patient expression seemed to say. “I forgive you.” 

Ginny tentatively raised a hand, and formed a thumbs-up. 

For a second, Neville lowered his eyes, and Ginny’s heart sank. But then, he grinned, and raised a thumb. 

-+-+-+- 

They walked. 

Ginny could feel the pleasant crunch of snow underneath her boots, and the numb feeling of her hands slowly freezing, even though they were in her pockets. She dug them deeper, pressing her hands against her torso, gratefully taking in the sudden feeling of warmth. 

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. Not the thick, palpable, awkward silence that Ginny was so used to. But a softer, more natural one. She didn’t feel the urge to talk, or worry, or even think, if something was wrong. She felt better, calmer, or maybe even happier. 

Ginny mindlessly walked down the twisting, turning path, not realising how far Hogwarts really was. At least, it wasn’t until Ginny watched the glowing windows of the school slowly creep closer to her, much slower than Ginny imagined. However, she did not get any discouragement of this, and her footsteps did not become heavy. Quite the opposite, actually—she felt light as a cloud, as though the anger she kept inside for so long, had rained away upon the ground behind her. 

Turning around, looking at Neville who was steadily following her, Ginny thought he looked the same, too. 

Finally reaching the tall, light-ridden castle, Ginny noticed for the first time that she could see no other students. In fact, the setting was silent, save the crunch of Neville’s boots and the occasional bird chirp. 

Just remembering, she pulled up the sleeve of her coat as quickly as her shivering hands would allow her, and checked the time, gasping. 

7:00 blinked back at her, the hands of the clock ticking away, adding to Ginny’s oncoming panic. 

She jammed her hand back into her pocket, wanting the feeling of warmth once again. They were incredibly late, despite her feeling of walking faster than usual. One look at Neville, and she could see that he had figured it out too; whether by Ginny’s watch, or from the lack of students on the snow-covered grounds. 

In the long, panicked, silence that followed, Ginny thought of something, a lightbulb through the fog. 

She looked up, over to the window where she had been glaring at a while ago, the sight that almost took her life if not for Neville. 

Just as she thought, the Carrow siblings were looking down at her, smirking. One of them seemed to give her a look, like _‘what’re you gonna do about it?’_

Hot hatred boiled in Ginny’s stomach. Strangely pleasant, it seemed to have warmed her body, if only for a second or so. Although added to Ginny’s panic, within it, another idea came to her from the anger. It wasn’t the greatest thing to do, but looking at the Carrows’ smug faces, her mind was set. 

She glared up, crossed her arms, and once she was sure those idiots were looking at her, very clearly stuck up both middle fingers. 

Ginny smiled, satisfied and smug, as the Carrows did a comical double-take. The cold hands were worth it. She heard as Neville snorted, surprised (but not in a bad way), and joined Ginny in her rude gestures. 

In the middle of the most obnoxious moves they could come up with (the Carrows were still watching, and glaring furiously; why they wouldn’t leave was beyond Ginny) a sound made them jump. 

“What—” a firm voice sternly questioned, “are you two doing?” 

Professor McGonagall stood right behind them, tapping her foot, clearly having seen everything. She was dressed in her usual emerald green robes, but a black cloak was draped over her shoulders for additional warmth. It was sprinkled with small sparkles of snow; signaling that she had been there for quite a while. But to be fair, Ginny thought she looked like she was trying to hide a smile. 

“Ahhh!” Neville shouted, panicking. “We, uh.” He looked at Ginny with pleading eyes, clearly wanting her to talk instead. _I do owe him._

“Professor McGonagall.” Ginny spoke hesitantly, though she was trying to hide it. “We were simply late. The carriage had some, ah, mishaps.” 

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow questionally. “What kind of mishaps?” She pressed. 

Ginny looked at Neville, seeing the clear inquiry in the professor’s eyes. Neville stared back at her, evidently not sure about what to say. 

“The carriage took a small detour and we were late,” Ginny said, her eyes pointed at the snow-covered ground, not wanting to meet Professor McGonagall’s anger-filled, bright green eyes. 

“Is that why it is not with you, and why you walked to the castle in these freezing cold temperatures?” Professor McGonagall’s voice rose with each word, until her voice echoed through the premises. 

Ginny sneaked a quick glance at the glaring woman in front of her, certain she looked like a scolded puppy by then. She was sure Neville looked the same. 

"Come with me," Professor McGonagall said sharply. She turned on her heel, robes flying out behind her, reminding Ginny very much of Headmaster Snape, and opened the large metal doors to the castle. 

Ginny snuck a glance at Neville. He shrugged, and followed Professor McGonagall into the warm, welcoming castle. 

-+-+-+- 

“Have a seat,” Professor McGonagall said once they were in her office, as she settled into the chair behind her desk. The fireplace was already burning brightly in the small corner of the office. Ginny could feel the heat on her skin, warming her from the cold walk to the castle. She rubbed her numb hands together and placed them closer to the fire. 

Professor McGonagall seemed to have noticed this because she then said, "Sit closer to the fire. Allow me to place a Warming Charm upon you freezing children." Her voice became softer, more motherly. Ginny obediently pulled her chair a little closer to the warm fireplace, and sat down. Neville did the same. Next, Professor McGonagall, with her cloak still on, pulled her wand out of it and wordlessly waved it twice towards the two children. 

A warm rush of air streaked through Ginny’s body, her bones beginning to heat up once more. Ginny let a sigh of relief and comfort. She looked up at Professor McGonagall gratefully, who gave a small smile in return. 

"Thank you." Ginny spoke quietly. But her Professor had already turned around. 

Professor McGonagall shivered, despite the fire, and wordlessly waved her wand once more. She walked back over to their armchairs, settling back into the wooden chair. 

"Well, warm enough to tell me the truth?" she asked, her anger seeming to have died away, a light smile appearing on her face. Ginny looked at Neville nervously. 

He nudged his chin in the direction of Professor McGonagall. Ginny decided to speak for them. 

"Well, a cup of tea would be nice,” Ginny mumbled, avoiding the professor's question. Professor McGonagall sighed, but didn’t say anything, and pushed herself out of her seat wearily. She walked into one of the two rooms attached to the office. Ginny heard her footsteps slowly fade out, and it was then that Ginny spoke the first word to Neville. 

"Do you think we should tell her the truth?" Ginny whispered, still paranoid that Professor McGonagall could hear them. 

"No. I don't want her to worry," Neville replied, in the same hushed tone. 

And before Ginny could agree, Professor McGonagall strode back in through the same door she exited, with a steaming teapot on a tray, with teacups. Ginny and Neville stopped their conversation immediately. 

The tray was set carefully onto the coffee table in front of them. "Help yourselves," Professor McGonagall said lightly, picking up two cups and filling them with hot tea. 

"Thank you, Professor." Ginny picked up a cup of tea, of which that she noticed was painted with designs that screamed _Gryffindor._

Ginny held the cup tightly between her hands, letting the warmth of it soak into her still-cold fingers. She slowly took a sip, lips puckering at both the scalding temperature and the bitter taste. 

"Yeah. Thanks, Professor," Neville said, picking up a cup too. It was only then that Professor McGonagall had filled a cup for herself. 

"Now, may I ask, what were you two doing out in the freezing cold weather, with barely any warm clothes on?" Professor McGonagall asked, the anger seeping into her voice once again. 

Ginny stared at her cup, watching the steam curl onto her face, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Neville didn't say anything, either. 

After a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever, Ginny decided that the truth was the best option, ignoring Neville’s advice earlier. "Well," she said hesitantly. "Well, the thing is, our carriage had a slight, erm, malfunction." 

Neville looked at Ginny, his eyes wide. They seemed to say, _I thought we weren't telling her!_

"Malfunction?" echoed Professor McGonagall, not noticing, or ignoring, Neville’s panicked expression. 

"The carriage ran into the Whomping Willow," Ginny said, chewing on her lip, her eyes once more dropping to the floor. 

Professor McGonagall looked at her in shock and surprise. “The Whomping Willow?” Ginny nodded, her eyes still aimed at the floor. 

“It didn’t hurt us, we got of the way,” Neville piped up beside her hurriedly. Professor McGonagall slumped into her seat, cup of tea still in her hand. Ginny could see the steam rising from the hot liquid. 

“Are you quite sure you and Mr. Longbottom were not hurt, in any way?” Professor McGonagall questioned, concern leaking into her voice. 

When none of them answered, she sat up and scanned the duo herself. Ginny could see her fingering her wand, as if she wanted to use a spell to check for injuries. 

"It really didn’t hurt us, Professor.” Ginny spoke, telling the truth. Then, a lie. "It wasn't anyone's fault. The carriage just... broke, I guess." Telling on the Carrows would only result in more trouble. 

“Neville pushed me out of the carriage,” she said, her eyes pointed at Professor McGonagall this time. The professor nodded absentmindedly, seemingly believing. 

She fell back once more in the armchair, her eyes staring at the fireplace in a daze. The red-hot flames looked as if they were shining in Professor McGonagall’s green eyes. 

“Professor?” A soft, nervous voice to her right spoke. 

Ginny looked at Neville. He had concern painted into his eyes, much like Professor McGonagall’s a while ago. The Professor looked up at Neville, her back beginning to straighten up. 

“Oh, you two may leave now,” she said, like she had just noticed they were still there. “I assume the feast has started already. And don’t worry, I’ll pardon you two for being late.” 

Ginny and Neville slowly got up and placed their cups on the gold tray on which they were served. Professor McGonagall continued on staring into the burning fire, her back slouched once more. After one final thanks, Neville exited the room, and Ginny quietly closed the tall door, not wanting to disturb her professor any further. 

The pair walked in silence to the Great Hall, both lost in their own swirling thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this week! I hope you are having a lovely summer! :)


	16. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville questions Ginny about the true importance of D.A. Luna follows Dean into an escape attempt.

The ringing of the train bell, added with the sudden brake, jolted Ginny forwards, and thus awakening her from her sleep.

They were back.

Ginny glanced out of the window, both eager and somehow still feeling dread, forming a strange emotion boiling up inside her. Hogwarts looked the same as before, the tall, towering turrets with bright windows, lit up with candles, and the lake shining a dark, navy blue, almost a black. It looked like home. From the outside, at least.

For Ginny knew that inside the castle, and the reason for her dread, were the Carrows. Her mind flashed back to what they looked like, their flat, doughy, pale faces, the vile grins plastered over them.

Ginny shivered, and turned her head away, her eye catching Neville, not wanting to see Hogwarts.

But seeing Neville’s joy of being back to the place that Ginny knew that he called home, him too scanning the premises, Ginny gritted her teeth.

_How dare the Carrows take away my source of happiness?_ Now, with Luna gone, and her family scatter all over the place… Hogwarts was the only thing Ginny had left. Even with her friends—these days, the only time she ever had an actual chat, that was not about torture, the Carrows, or Dumbledore’s Army…

Was around Christmas, the time when she didn’t think, didn’t let herself think, about any of that.

She missed the times where they could talk freely, freely about things that other people wouldn’t care about, freely about family, freely about loved ones. She missed the times were they could laugh without fear, love without fear, hope without fear.

So Ginny promised herself; _I will not, will not, let the Carrows succeed. See how they react to me ignoring, forgetting, their threats, their torture._

It would be awful to force herself to be happy, Ginny knew. She tried before. But it wouldn’t hurt to just not worry, right?

Ginny closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Luna is safe. She’s strong, she’ll make it on her own, like you should, too.

And almost miraculously, it felt as if a weight on her shoulders had lessened a little; like she could breath easier. As though just thinking positively about something, lifted some of the worry.

“Hey, Ginny.” Neville’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts. “Come on, let’s go.”

Ginny looked at Neville. He was smiling, but in a way, Ginny noticed now, that wasn’t out of pure happiness. It was a smile to stay strong, keep moving. Moving towards the hope of this all ending, the war, the fear.

Ginny realised with a start that Neville had been, and was right now, doing the exact same thing Ginny was just trying to do. This time, she truly saw Neville, tired and mourning, but still smiling through the ashes, a hopeful, strong, bitter smile. Not bothering to mask the sorrow, but, on the other hand, not forcing himself to be extensively cheerful—Ginny suddenly found an immense respect for him.

She smiled back. And together, they walked out of the train, and to Hogwarts.

Ginny, stretching out her legs, walked dreadfully and slowly in the direction of a large, spruce carriage with decorative designs engraved into the side, the ride to Hogwarts. She could feel the chill of the cold winter wind on her exposed skin, and pulled her jacket tighter around her body.

Multiple times she had turned around, wondering why Luna was being so quiet. Every time, Neville would lift his head and see Ginny staring, a mask of shock plastered over her freckled face. He would then give that weary smile, which Ginny tried her best to give back. The pair stopped at the carriage.

Their ride was surprisingly bumpy; Ginny found herself constantly jolting. _Hmm. I don’t remember this. But then again, it’s been six months._

As the wooden, leather seated carriage hitched yet again, Ginny resigned to gazing at Hogwarts, far away but the glowing windows still visible. She found herself staring at a window that was lit, and was the only light-filled one out of many. And as she looked, nothing really in her mind, Ginny was surprised at a sight; she thought that she saw a figure move around.

Ginny would’ve been more suspicious, but the past events had dazed her, caused her to just zone out and relax for a while. She was not really looking at where the carriage was going anymore.

She should have payed more attention. In a split second, the carriage violently careened to the left, and it, along with it Ginny and Neville, all pitched to the side.

Ginny blinked, unmoving, in utter confusion. One second, she was glaring at where she thought Professor Carrow’s office was, the lit window. Now, the carriage was completely off-course, and heading for—

“GINNY!” Neville shouted. He tackled Ginny off the malfunctioning vehicle, jumping away from the rampaging carriage right after her, tumbling into the cold, wet, snow.

Just a moment after, the carriage smashed head-first into the Whomping Willow.

Ginny watched, staring, horrified, as the branches of the snow-covered tree immediately torn the strong, dark spruce carriage into smithereens. Clouds of powdery snow billowed over them, and occasionally the broken wood of the carriage would fly out, pelting Ginny, who honestly didn’t care anymore.

_That could have been me!_

She turned her head, looking at Neville, who, to be fair, looked equally as dazed. His hair was rumpled, messed up, and a mixture of ice and snow was tangled between the strands of hair. It reminded Ginny of Harry. Neville… he saved my life.

Ginny didn’t know what to do. It was like Luna’s capture all over again; she was too caught up in her own troubles to help anyone. Not even herself.

_Oh, no, not this time!_ Ginny thought, suddenly angry.

“Thank you, Neville. Now let’s get walking, we don’t want to be late,” Ginny spoke, rather sharply, and turned around, walking towards the dark castle. She promptly dusted off the snow on her clothes, once again wrapping her coat tighter around her shivering body.

_Why did you do that?_ asked the rational part of Ginny’s brain. _He saved your life, and you just say a quick thanks?_ it shouted, annoyed at Ginny, who was more stomping than walking now.

_Well, what else could I do?_ Ginny argued with herself, _I can’t really apologise now, can I?_

“Um… Ginny, you okay?” A quiet voice interrupted her mental argument. Ginny whirled around, unintentionally glaring.

“What?” she said, a bit too loudly. Neville stood, wide-eyed and startled.

“I, uh, nevermind.” Neville muttered. He looked… almost afraid of Ginny.

_Do it! Do it now!_ urged the voice, gradually becoming louder. And looking at Neville and his snow covered face… Ginny softened, and made herself let go of her pride.

“Neville… I’m sorry. This is just really stressful. I would be dead now if it weren’t for you.” Ginny spoke softly, as if trying not to scare him away.

Neville looked at Ginny.

“Yeah, it’s OK. You’re stressed, I get it.” That’s what I’m feeling right now, his patient expression seemed to say. “I forgive you.”

Ginny tentatively raised a hand, and formed a thumbs-up. For a second, Neville lowered his eyes, and Ginny’s heart sank.

But then, he grinned, and raised a thumb.

-+-+-+-

They walked.

Ginny could feel the pleasant crunch of snow underneath her boots, and the numb feeling of her hands slowly freezing, even though they were in her pockets. She dug them deeper, pressing her hands against her torso, gratefully taking in the sudden feeling of warmth.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. Not the thick, palpable, awkward silence that Ginny was so used to. But a softer, more natural one. She didn’t feel the urge to talk, or worry, or even think, if something was wrong. She felt better, calmer, or maybe even happier.

Ginny mindlessly walked down the twisting, turning path, not realising how far Hogwarts really was. At least, it wasn’t until Ginny watched the glowing windows of the school slowly creep closer to her, much slower than Ginny imagined. However, she did not get any discouragement of this, and her footsteps did not become heavy. Quite the opposite, actually—she felt light as a cloud, as though the anger she kept inside for so long, had rained away upon the ground behind her.

Turning around, looking at Neville who was steadily following her, Ginny thought he looked the same, too.

Finally reaching the tall, light-ridden castle, Ginny noticed for the first time that she could see no other students. In fact, the setting was silent, save the crunch of Neville’s boots and the occasional bird chirp.

Just remembering, she pulled up the sleeve of her coat as quickly as her shivering hands would allow her, and checked the time, gasping.

7:00 blinked back at her, the hands of the clock ticking away, adding to Ginny’s oncoming panic.

She jammed her hand back into her pocket, wanting the feeling of warmth once again. They were incredibly late, despite her feeling of walking faster than usual. One look at Neville, and she could see that he had figured it out too; whether by Ginny’s watch, or from the lack of students on the snow-covered grounds.

In the long, panicked, silence that followed, Ginny thought of something, a lightbulb through the fog.

She looked up, over to the window where she had been glaring at a while ago, the sight that almost took her life if not for Neville.

Just as she thought, the Carrow siblings were looking down at her, smirking. One of them seemed to give her a look, like ‘what’re you gonna do about it?’

Hot hatred boiled in Ginny’s stomach. Strangely pleasant, it seemed to have warmed her body, if only for a second or so. Although added to Ginny’s panic, within it, another idea came to her from the anger. It wasn’t the greatest thing to do, but looking at the Carrows’ smug faces, her mind was set.

She glared up, crossed her arms, and once she was sure those idiots were looking at her, very clearly stuck up both middle fingers.

Ginny smiled, satisfied and smug, as the Carrows did a comical double-take. The cold hands were worth it. She heard as Neville snorted, surprised (but not in a bad way), and joined Ginny in her rude gestures.

In the middle of the most obnoxious moves they could come up with (the Carrows were still watching, and glaring furiously; (why they wouldn’t leave was beyond Ginny) a sound made them jump.

“What—” a firm voice sternly questioned, “are you two doing?”

Professor McGonagall stood right behind them, tapping her foot, clearly having seen everything. She was dressed in her usual emerald green robes, but a black cloak was draped over her shoulders for additional warmth. It was sprinkled with small sparkles of snow; signaling that she had been there for quite a while. But to be fair, Ginny thought she looked like she was trying to hide a smile.

“Ahhh!” Neville shouted, panicking. “We, uh.” He looked at Ginny with pleading eyes, clearly wanting her to talk instead.

I do owe him, Ginny thought, amused, and stepped forward.

“Professor McGonagall.” Ginny spoke hesitantly, though she was trying to hide it. “We were simply late. The carriage had some, ah, mishaps.”

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow questionally.

“What kind of mishaps?” She pressed. Ginny looked at Neville, seeing the clear inquiry in the professor’s eyes. Neville stared back at her, evidently not sure about what to say.

“The carriage took a small detour and we were late,” Ginny said, her eyes pointed at the snow-covered ground, not wanting to meet Professor McGonagall’s anger-filled, bright green eyes.

“Is that why it is not with you, and why you walked to the castle in these freezing cold temperatures?” Professor McGonagall’s voice rose with each word, until her voice echoed through the premises.

Ginny sneaked a quick glance at the glaring woman in front of her, certain she looked like a scolded puppy by then. She was sure Neville looked the same.

"Come with me," Professor McGonagall said sharply. She turned on her heel, robes flying out behind her, reminding Ginny very much of Headmaster Snape, and opened the large metal doors to the castle.

Ginny snuck a glance at Neville. He shrugged, and followed Professor McGonagall into the warm, welcoming castle.

-+-+-+-

“Have a seat,” Professor McGonagall said once they were in her office, as she settled into the hard-backed wooden chair behind her desk.

The fireplace was already burning brightly in the small corner of the office, its sparks flying all over the place.

Ginny could feel the heat on her skin, warming her welcomely from the cold walk to the castle. She rubbed her numb hands together and placed them closer to the fire.

Professor McGonagall seemed to have noticed this because she then said,

"Sit closer to the fire. Allow me to place a Warming Charm upon you freezing children." Her voice became softer, more motherly.

Ginny obediently pulled her chair a little closer to the warm fireplace, and sat down. Neville did the same.

Next, Professor McGonagall, with her cloak still on, pulled her wand out of it and wordlessly waved it twice towards the two children.

A warm rush of air streaked through Ginny’s body, her bones beginning to heat up once more. Ginny let a sigh of relief and comfort. She looked up at Professor McGonagall gratefully, who gave a small smile in return.

"Thank you." Ginny spoke quietly. But her Professor had already turned around, and began to hang her long, black cloak back in her closet, revealing a thin emerald green robe underneath.

Professor McGonagall shivered, despite the fire, and wordlessly waved her wand once more. She walked back over to their armchairs, settling back into the wooden chair.

"Well, warm enough to tell me the truth?" she asked, her anger seeming to have died away, a light smile appearing on her face.

Ginny looked at Neville nervously. He nudged his chin in the direction of Professor McGonagall. Ginny decided to speak for them.

"Well, a cup of tea would be nice,” Ginny mumbled, avoiding the professor's question. Professor McGonagall sighed, but didn’t say anything, and pushed herself out of her seat wearily. She walked into one of the two rooms attached to the office.

Ginny heard her footsteps slowly fade out, and it was then that Ginny spoke the first word to Neville.

"Do you think we should tell her the truth?" Ginny whispered, still paranoid that Professor McGonagall could hear them. Neville shook his head.

"No. She's going to freak, and we really can't have her get in any more trouble with the Carrows. Professor McGonagall doesn't need that worry," Neville replied, in the same hushed tone.

And before Ginny could agree, Professor McGonagall strode back in through the same door she exited, with a steaming teapot on a tray, with teacups.

Ginny and Neville stopped their conversation immediately. The tray was set carefully onto the coffee table in front of them.

"Help yourselves," Professor McGonagall said lightly, picking up two cups and filling them with hot tea.

"Thank you, Professor." Ginny picked up a cup of tea, of which that she noticed was painted with intricate golden designs flying across it; designs that screamed Gryffindor.

Ginny held the cup tightly between her hands, letting the warmth of it soak into her still-cold fingers. She slowly took a sip, lips puckering at both the scalding temperature and the bitter taste.

"Yeah. Thanks, Professor," Neville said, picking up a cup too. It was only then, Ginny noticed, that Professor McGonagall had filled a cup for herself.

"Now, may I ask, what were you two doing out in the freezing cold weather, with barely any warm clothes on?" Professor McGonagall asked, the anger seeping into her voice once again.

Ginny stared at her cup, watching the steam curl onto her face, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Neville didn't say anything, either. After a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever, Ginny decided that the truth was the best option, ignoring Neville’s advice earlier.

"Well," she said hesitantly. "Well, the thing is, our carriage had a slight, erm, malfunction."

Neville looked at Ginny, his eyes wide. They seemed to say, I thought we weren't telling her! "Malfunction?" echoed Professor McGonagall, not noticing, or ignoring, Neville’s panicked expression.

"The carriage ran into the Whomping Willow," Ginny said, chewing on her lip, her eyes once more dropping to the floor. Professor McGonagall looked at her in shock and surprise.

“The Whomping Willow?” Ginny nodded, her eyes still aimed at the floor.

“It didn’t hurt us, we got of the way,” Neville piped up beside her hurriedly.

Professor McGonagall slumped into her seat, cup of tea still in her hand. Ginny could see the steam rising from the hot liquid.

“Are you quite sure you and Mr. Longbottom were not hurt, in any way?” Professor McGonagall questioned, concern leaking into her voice.

When none of them answered, she sat up and scanned the duo herself. Ginny could see her fingering her wand, as if she wanted to use a spell to check for injuries.

“It really didn’t hurt us, Professor.” Ginny spoke, telling the truth. “Neville pushed me out of the carriage,” she said, her eyes pointed at Professor McGonagall this time. The professor nodded absentmindedly, seemingly believing. She fell back once more in the armchair, her eyes staring at the fireplace in a daze. The red-hot flames looked as if they were shining in Professor McGonagall’s green eyes.

“Professor?” A soft, nervous voice to her right spoke. Ginny looked at Neville. He had concern painted into his eyes, much like Professor McGonagall’s a while ago. The Professor looked up at Neville, her back beginning to straighten up.

“Oh, you two may leave now,” she said, like she had just noticed they were still there. “I assume the feast has started already. And don’t worry, I’ll pardon you two for being late.”

Ginny and Neville slowly got up and placed their cups on the gold tray on which they were served. Professor McGonagall continued on staring into the burning fire, her back slouched once more.

After one final thanks, Neville exited the room, and Ginny quietly closed the tall door, not wanting to disturb her professor any further.

The pair walked in silence to the Great Hall, both lost in their own swirling thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading! This was a slightly boring chapter, and I apologise for that... it gets better!


	17. Locks and Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny receives a letter. Luna receives some threats and a new inmate.

Once back in her dormitory, Ginny placed the letter on her desk and smoothed it out with a deep breath. 

Ginny and Tonks had always had some kind of connection; they had met at one of Molly's many, many dinners in Grimmauld Place. Tonks had chose to sit beside Ginny during the dinner and they had made conversation easily; for Ginny was fascinated by the fact that Tonks could change her appearance by will. 

She had changed her face into a pig, but only with rabbit ears, by Ginny’s demand. Their relationship had only strengthened by the near-hysterical laughter it brought to Ginny. 

One of the days they hung out, it stuck out to Ginny. They were huddled in Ginny's small and cramped (though still more home-y than ever) bedroom, playing with the muggle object that was called such 'make-up'. 

Tonks had found the small powder packet in her mother and father's room, wondering what it was. She had brought it to show to Ginny, with the result of both of them looking like complete fools, with power-white faces, ridiculous frosted eyelids, and exaggerated pouts, breaking off with laughter so loud Molly had ran upstairs, only to crack up at the sight of the two. 

_And to think it was supposed to make you look better._ Ginny smiled at the memory. 

She grabbed her quill and a strip of parchment. Ginny dug around in her trunk for the fancy emerald-green ink that she used for special cases—this one definitely counted as special. 

_Hi Tonks!_

 _I hope you believe it's really the actual Ginevra Molly Weasley. Here's some proof: we played with this muggle product you called 'make-up' that you found in your parent's room, which is when you did my favourite transformation for me again; the pig nose with rabbit ears._

 _

I hope that's enough proof, because I can't think of any more! 

I have gotten your letter just fine (as you can tell) and obviously, yes! It would be an honour to be godmother. Do you have a name yet? What’s the gender? Please owl me back A.S.A.P! Waiting to hear more, 

Ginny

_

She signed off the letter and looked the window the for the owl Tonks was talking about. And, true to her word, it was perched on the ledge of the window, staring into the dormitory. When it caught Ginny’s stare, it hooted impatiently. _Hmm. So that’s why it didn’t fly outside._

Ginny walked over the window and opened it, shivering at the cold gush of wind wafting in. She beckoned the owl, at which it flew in, flapping its large wings, causing the snow on them spraying everywhere. Ginny shielded her face with her hands for a brief moment, and after, used the ribbon of which Tonks had used (that was still left of the leg of the owl) to tie her response. She tied it tight, but made sure it was not too tight to be uncomfortable. 

The tawny owl nipped Ginny's finger happily, and she stroked its head before it flew off into the snow covered grounds of Hogwarts. 

-+-+-+- 

Dean lay on the floor, taking up most of the space in the cell. Luna didn’t mind, really, he needed the rest. Ollivander still seemed to be asleep, even after he made a noise; he was curled up into a ball in the corner where Luna had placed the nail, snoring softly. 

Luna stretched out her arms, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She crawled over to Dean, getting her first good look at him. His eyes were closed in a fitful sleep, for he seemed to be mumbling to himself, and every now and then, his eyelids would flutter briefly. The cut on this forehead seemed to be healing pretty well, it was already starting to scab. 

As Dean shivered, eyelids twitching, Luna decided to free him from his nightmares. She placed a hand on his arm, shaking him gently to wake him up. 

Dean gasped, his eyes flying open, looking extremely disoriented. He stared at Luna, eyes wide with confusion. Luna noticed how much of a dark brown they were. No, not like Ginny’s—Dean’s eyes were just a pure dark brown, almost black (though nothing like Snape’s) and seemed to continue on endlessly. 

“Luna?” Dean’s voice came out raspy and rough, and ended with a cough, cutting her thoughts abruptly. 

She nodded. “That’s me,” she chirped, looking straight down at him, again into his eyes—she didn’t feel any more-than-platonic feelings towards him, however, his eyes seemed to fascinate her. 

“And when was the first D.A. meeting?” Luna suddenly snapped. 

Dean looked confused, but still answered the question asked. “When I was in my fifth year, sometime around in the winter. Harry held it in the Room of Requirement. It was awesome,” Dean said, propping himself up on his elbows. Luna nodded, glad he was correct. 

“I hope you believe I am Luna Lovegood. I don’t really remember you from anything, I’m sorry,” Luna said bluntly. She gave an apologetic smile. 

Luna then snatched the bag of food that she and Ollivander had recently received and pulled out some bread. She handed the boy on and some water. He made signs of protesting, but without words, Luna forced the food into his hands. 

“Eat. You’ll need it. Why are you here anyways?” Luna blurted out, curiosity overtaking her politeness. 

Dean looked away, at the blank wall, with thin lips. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want,” Luna offered timidly. 

“No, no. It’s fine. I’m muggleborn, you see? I was traveling with Ted Tonks, know him?” Luna nodded. “Well, I was on the run with him and two other goblins. One was killed and the other captured. I’m not sure what cell they put him in,” Dean said quickly, gaze turning to a glare. 

“What happened to Mr. Tonks?” Luna asked, afraid to know the answer. Dean’s eyes turned even darker at the question. 

“They killed him.” 

Luna simply stared at him, not believing for a moment. 

Seeing Dean’s angry eyes, after a pause, she offered him a small, reassuring smile. 

“He was very noble when he died. He wanted you to get away, didn’t he?” 

Dean nodded, his head still facing the other direction. 

“Well then, he died to a good cause.” 

“Some use that did,” Dean said, his tone bitter. 

Luna pursed her lips, and sighed. “We will get out somehow. I promise you that.” 

-+-+-+- 

Ginny ran down to the Room of Requirement to meet Neville. She walked past the seemingly blank wall twice, and was just about to leave, thinking Neville had forgotten (even though is was he who had called for a meeting) until a pair of double doors appeared. Ginny, feeling relieved, ran in. 

“Hey Longbottom.” Ginny greeted. Neville quirked an eyebrow. 

“Weasley.” Ginny crossed her arms and stared Neville dead in the eye. She walked over the table and sat down across from Neville, her eyes never leaving his. She didn’t overlook how Neville did not blush, or seem flustered in the lightest. In face, he seemed to be unfocused on the present entirely—not that she wasn’t glad. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Ginny asked curiously, breaking the tension. 

“Oh, I was kinda thinking we could welcome everyone back to D.A. We could start back up things, maybe not just using spray paint, but also get into the Carrows’ offices and mess stuff up there,” Neville explained. Ginny nodded. 

“Sure, why not? We just have to be more careful. We could continue on with the vandalising, if you want to, that is,” she said. 

“OK.” The pair lapsed into an awkward silence, neither one sure about what to say. Ginny looked down at her lap and twiddled her fingers awkwardly. 

Surprisingly, Neville was the one to break the quiet atmosphere first. 

“Ginny, do you think more people will get hurt?” Neville asked timidly. Ginny was caught by surprise. She had always known that people would get hurt in the coming months, but how many more… She really didn’t know. She didn’t really want to know either. 

“I’m not sure. I… I hope not,” Ginny replied, hesitantly. 

The pair fell into silence again. Ginny absentmindedly tapped her fingers on the table in front of her. It seemed as if, without Luna, they had fallen apart. 

This wasn’t just her being conceited, but Ginny always thought she was the “glue” of sorts, the leader keeping them together. _Although these days, I’ve had more than my fair share of trouble,_ she thought guiltily. 

With an aura of finality, Neville suddenly rose from his seat and walked until he was standing beside the fireplace. Ginny looked at him curiously. 

"Neville?" 

He seemed to be deep in thought and didn't reply. Ginny tried again, a bit more urgent. 

"Neville?" Neville kneeled down and began to poke at the fire with his wand, making the flames rise higher and higher. He looked at Ginny, face glowing red from the heat. 

"Do you think this is really going to be worth it in the end?" He asked quietly, and with a hint of bitterness, still poking his wand at the fire. The amber flames became bright red. 

Taken aback from this question Ginny had asked herself many, many times before, Ginny got up from her seat to join Neville. She could feel the heat of the fire radiate from the fire as she got closer. 

"If this," Ginny gestured around the room, "is possible, I think anything can happen." 

Neville looked up at her, a tint of a glare in his eyes. 

"Do you really think so?” He spoke quietly, and sounded utterly worn out and tired. “What's going to happen next? Luna's already gone… " His voice trailed off with a distant look, and he seemed to be lost in thought again. 

"But we can keep on going,” Ginny persisted. “If we give up now, the Carrows win. You-Know-Who wins. People of whom we love are out there, fighting for their lives, or in cellars because they were fighting for what they believed in. People are dying, muggle and magic, because of him. If we give up now, their deaths mean nothing. 

“I am aware that people are going to die in this upcoming war, but we can lower that number of deaths. It’s all we can do right now," Ginny said, kneeling down as well and placed a hand on Neville’s shoulders. He nodded, but then looked at Ginny again, this time dead-straight in the eye. "Do you really believe that people are going to die?" 

"This is war, Neville. It is not called war if people don't die," Ginny said bitterly. 

Neville set his jaw, looking determined. "Then we will help end it." 

Ginny gave Neville a small smile. He smiled back. 

"This war is going to end. People won't have to live in fear again, and families will be united once more. That is what Dumbledore's Army is going to do. We will live up to that name, and we are going to win this war!" 

-+-+-+- 

The door slammed open. Dean looked at her in fear, his eyes wide and his mouth open. Ollivander was still in the cell too, but he was a blessed deep-sleeper, and fast asleep, completely unaware of what had just happened. 

Three men dressed in elaborate black robes stood in the door, blocking most of the light coming in. Luna was used to seeing Death Eaters, but the first man was different from the others, and absolutely not in a good way. 

He wore no mask, unlike the rest of his Death Eater friends. He had a very pale, near complete white face and his long white hair draped over his shoulders, smooth and silky—absurdly reminding Luna of corn silk. His dark grey eyes seemed dull and lifeless, and in his left hand he held a tall, thin cane. 

The handle of the cane was as elaborate as his robes; a silver metal snake slithered up the top of the cane, coming to a stop at a coil at the very top. It had bright green eyes that, with a chill, Luna realised they seemed to follow her. Though he seemed to be the leader, he was not the first to speak. 

"Dean Thomas. Mudblood caught by Snatchers. Posed for trial today," the man in the very back said. 

Perhaps Lucius Malfoy is too noble and too rich to speak about muggleborns, thought Luna, recognising the man. Dean was still looking at Luna, his expression questioning and frightened. 

"Dean Thomas. Follow us and you won't be hurt. Neither will your two friends here," the Death Eater in the middle sneered. Dean was still looking at Luna, who didn’t make any movement as to signal anything. 

"If you don't come with us, we will have to resort to, let's say, more drastic measures." The middle Death Eater tilted his head in pity, though Luna could bet, if she could see under the mask, the Death Eater would be smiling. She wanted to hit the vile man in the face. 

Dean slowly got up and began to walk the short distance to the Death Eaters. Luna was sure that he was walk with them and enter his so called 'trial'. She felt relief, no matter how sick it was. As he slowly walked to the Death Eaters, Luna saw his hand curl up into a fist. Luna’s eyes widened. 

_BAM._

Dean's fist made contact with Lucius Malfoy's jaw line, causing a sickening crunch. 

Dean took advantage of this moment, for he beckoned Luna to follow, and ran out the wide open door. 

The next few moments passed in a wild blur. Luna could remember running up a pair of stairs, instinctively following, barely catching herself from tripping over a step, and making it to a large room, panting with adrenaline. 

She remembered dodging spells Death Eaters were casting at her left and right, she remembered a jet of dark green shoot past her ear. Luna ignored it, and kept on running, running until she found some kind of exit. It was like some primal instinct had took over, and all she could think of was escape. 

She followed Dean, who seemed to know where he was going. How long has he been planning this? 

She felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her, stopping her wild run. The arms coiled around her waist, and shoved her roughly, knocking her to the ground, emitting a pained cry. A hard metal was wrapped around her wrists and ankles. She could feel herself being dragged across the hard stone ground. 

Luna could hear Dean’s footsteps pounding away, farther and farther. The texture of the jagged stones rubbed against her cheek, gnawing at it until it became raw. That was the last thing she felt before she passed out. 

-+-+-+- 

Luna woke up to a burning, almost unbearable pain in her wrists and ankles. She forced open her eyes, cringing at the sting it brought to her cheek. She lay on her stomach, arms and ankles tied together by a thick metal chain. The rings of the chains dig into her wrists painfully. So this was how Dean felt. 

Knowing that she couldn't rid herself of the chains on her own, she lifted her head and looked around, taking in her surroundings. 

She could tell it was a different place from the one that she was in before; there was a bed in the corner wall, and the room seemed to be deserted. Well, the ‘bed’ wasn’t really a bed, it was more like a lump of hay dumped in the corner of a room. But it was better than what they had before. 

Luna tried to shift her body closer to the stack of hay, trying to make herself feel more comfortable. But as hard as she tried, her body wouldn’t budge, rather, it was like the harder Luna struggled, the tighter the bonds became. She could feel the chains clank against each other loudly and as she tried to move again, she realised the chains on her ankles were attached to the ground. Luna sighed, glared at the ceiling, and resorted to lying on the floor and taking in the rest of the room. 

Then, from the darkest corner of the room, came a small cough. Luna’s head shot in the direction of the cough, her senses all completely turned on, and interrogated herself for not noticing sooner. 

The cough had come from a small creature sitting on the floor. He didn’t seem to be human—he was much too short. But, then again, there’s Professor Flitwick. He had large ears with the ends sharp and pointy. His hands were abnormally large; they seemed way out of portion for such a small frame. His clothing was tattered and torn. 

It was a goblin. Luna recognised the creature from the her textbooks in class. 

He was the first to speak. “You’re the Lovegood girl, aren’t you?” 

Luna looked at him with wide eyes; it had been a while since she had seen a goblin, and she was still processing the past events. 

“Yes, I am. And who are you?” she asked, out of pure curiously. The goblin seemed to hesitate a bit, before deciding Luna was trustworthy, and replying. 

“I am Griphook. I work at Gringotts,” the goblin said, the pride evident in his voice. Luna nodded. 

“But, how did you get here?” 

Griphook clewed on his lip, while playing with his fingers. Luna could see long nails at the ends, but it didn't disgust her in any way—rather, it intrigued her. 

“I was captured while running away with muggle-borns.” he eventually said. 

Luna nodded again, then thought of something. 

“Was one of them named Dean Thomas?” Luna remembered Dean mention two goblins of whom he had traveled with. The goblin responded slowly. 

“Yes. And the other man, Ted Tonks.” Luna remembered the news Dean had carried. A heaviness fell through the room. 

The conversation seemed to have dwindled, neither person sure about what to say to fill the awkward, growing silence. Luna looked around the room, and Griphook played with his long fingers. As Luna watched him, she realised that his nails were so long that they could pick a lock. 

“Mr. Griphook?” she piped up eagerly. The goblin’s head snapped up at his name. 

“Yes?” 

“Could you, perhaps, help me out of this situation?” Luna gestured to his nails. 

The goblin thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged. He stood up, and began to walk over to Luna. It was then that she realised that Griphook also had a chain tied to his leg, very much like the one bounding her. But even so, he was able to pace the short perimeter around the room. _Because they didn’t think he could do anything to help,_ Luna thought, fuming. _Well, they’ll regret it._

It was at this time that Luna truly realised how short the man was. As he walked over, Luna watched as he made a detour to the wall. He placed his long fingers over the bricks, feeling into the crevices. So he wasn’t going to use his nails, after all—rather, Griphook was going to use an actual nail. Luna felt a strange urge to smile. _Whatever._

Luna felt disappointed her saved nail from days ago hadn’t come in handy, but she shrugged it off, and watched Griphook. Once he seemed to have found a nail, he headed for Luna. 

“Could you tilt this way?” he asked. Luna obeyed, turning as much as she could over to the side Griphook was. Griphook worked in silence as he started to pick the lock, bit by bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the end to this shorter-than-usual chapter! I hope you've enjoyed reading!


	18. A Bonding Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny and Neville get a rather strange detention.

They were just about to leave. 

Ginny was pulled back roughly by Neville, who hissed at her, “What are you doing? Look!” 

Following Neville’s finger, Ginny slowly drew back. Snape. Prowling the hallways. Checking her watch, Ginny began to panic as she realised something—it was after curfew. 

Mouthing an apology, Ginny watched as Snape looked around, then began to leave. 

However, before Snape left, he looked down the hallway, as if he was afraid of someone following him. Weird. Then, he left like he normally would; his robes flapping behind him, making him look more and more like an enormous bat with each step. He disappeared around the corner of the corridor and Ginny was intrigued. Snape’s behaviour before seemed very peculiar, even more than usual; something was up. 

Ginny, before she could even think about anything, darted out of the Room of Requirement and followed Snape, heart thumping. She could hear Neville's whispers, gradually getting louder, saying, "Ginny, no! You idiot, what are you doing?" But she wasn't listening. At the moment, all that was on her mind was following Snape, to wherever he was going. She hurriedly placed a Disillusion Charm upon herself, hoping it was enough. 

But once she got out of the room and started turning the corner, she felt a hand land on her shoulder. Ginny whipped her head around, her bright red fiery hair slamming into the person's face, wand immediately drawn. 

Her shoulders drooped with relief. It was only Neville. Her wand was pointed at his face, poking into his cheek. Ginny immediately lowered her hand, embarrassed for acting so panicked. 

"Neville?" She asked incredulously. He growled at her. 

"Of course it's me. Who else would it be, going out to chase you like that?" His voice trembled with anger, his hands were clenched into fists. He wouldn’t meet Ginny’s eyes. She paused, not sure what to say. 

“Neville Longbottom, I guess,” she said finally, her eyes trained on the floor, focusing on the stone floor of the school. Though Ginny didn’t notice it, Neville’s eyes softened, and a soft smile had began to grace his face. 

“Where were you going? Following Snape? What were you thinking?” Though those were his words, Neville had drawn his wand, seeming to be prepared to cast an 

Disillusion Charm upon himself. Ginny looked up at him, playing with her fingers, finding that it seemed to have become a habit. 

“Yeah, well, he looked strange—even more than normal—and his behaviour was off. He went that way”—Ginny pointed to the corner—“I was wondering what happened,” Ginny said, pulling her wand out, too. 

“Wanna find out?” Neville said brightly. 

He didn’t wait for answer and Ginny watched as he left, casting a Disillusion Charm. She could still make out a faint outline, but other than that, she couldn’t see him. That’s a relief. 

Ginny followed suit and waved her wand above her head, feeling the slight ripple spread over her body from the spell. She followed the walls, twisting and turning, both of them rushing, until she found Snape, his robes flapping right behind him, making him, again, looking like an overgrown bat. His wand was tightly gripped in his hand and his greasy, stringy hair was flying up in the air from the speed he was pacing by. Ginny walked behind, struggling to keep up, making sure not to make eye contact, although she knew that he couldn't see her. 

Snape walked down the halls until they came to the Entrance Hall, where he pushed the doors open. Why is he leaving the school? Ginny, by natural instinct, grasped her wand tighter, hoping that they wouldn't be heading the Forbidden Forest. She followed Snape out of the school, taking in a breath of the crisp, cool winter air. She hoped Snape wouldn’t see the fog of her breath. 

Turns out, she didn’t have to worry about that. 

She was just about to walk down the steps of the castle, when a loud, strong note rang into the air. Ginny's eyes widened in shock and panic, and gripped her wand even tighter, ready for a fight. Snape immediately turned to the area of the noise, his robes wrapping around him. 

Ginny stared into his eyes, terrified. There were small specks of green in those dark, dark, eyes. The emerald freckles made Snape's eyes look, say, more human, as if they were trying to tell someone that Snape wasn't what you thought he was—making you think as though he wasn’t just a cold-blooded killer. 

Ginny had never noticed anything of the sort about Snape, expect for his grumpy attitude and his favouritism in Slytherin students. What was she even doing? 

His voice her cut out of her thoughts. 

"Who's there?" He scanned the area around him, his wand leading way. Ginny heard him mutter some type of spell she couldn’t recognise. She felt a slight tingle ripple through her body, as though she had been stripped of an outside layer of clothing. 

As Ginny grasped her wand nervously, she realised that she could see her hand. She gaped at it in horror. Ginny looked up at Snape, who's face mirrored her's. An expression of slight fear appeared on his face, his eyes widening in shock. 

As soon as it came, the expression disappeared and was replaced with a calm, expressionless face. 

"Miss. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom. May I ask you what you are doing, after curfew, outside of the school?" His voice was deadly quiet, eyes blazing, and Ginny thought that she would rather him yell. She looked down at her feet, not able to met Snape's eyes. Neville didn't say anything either, but from where Ginny could see, he was looking the Headmaster dead in the eye, much unlike Ginny. 

Perhaps Neville's boggart has changed too. And maybe, it was more than just that. He was braver, kinder, bolder. And, it was only then, did Ginny realise how much they had all changed. 

She noticed after, that during her thoughts, still nobody spoke. An awkward silence filled the air, only getting more and more palpable as it stretched on, nobody wanting to speak first. Then, finally, Snape spoke—but, it seemed, not because he was getting uncomfortable—it was like a test, some sort of challenge—and, by the look in Snape’s eyes, they had failed. 

"Very well," he sighed, "Professor McGonagall's office." Ginny looked up from her feet, and saw that Snape had already waved them away, and turned around, walking down the steps of the school. Ginny stared at Snape’s retreating figure, curious as to why they weren’t getting detention, when she thought she had saw him cast a Patronus. It flew out of his wand, in the shape of a four legged animal. The wispy figure pranced to the edges of the school and then disappeared from sight around the corner. 

She felt angry with herself for not paying more attention, for she was strangely interested in what Snape’s Patronus had been, and she swore she saw a whisper of… antlers? 

Ginny looked at Neville and realised that he had already began to walk back into the castle. She quickly started jogging and caught up with him. 

"Neville?" He didn't look at her, and simply stared in front of him, to his destination. Ginny, slightly frustrated, tried again. "Neville? Are you alright?" 

He looked at her, but still didn't reply. Then, suddenly he spoke. 

"We got lucky." His voice was bland and emotionless. It was like a robot was speaking. 

"How?" Ginny asked, concerned but more curious. 

"He could've gave us detention. You've had them plenty of times, haven't you?" Neville growled with a sudden outburst of anger. 

Ginny stepped back from him, shocked and slightly scared. She stared him in the eye, trying to make sense of his fury. Neville’s eyes had a clear anger to them, but as Ginny looked deeper, she spotted misery, regret, pain. But for who? 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t,” Ginny stuttered. She opened her mouth to say more, when they were interrupted by a very, very familiar voice, calling to them from the other side. 

“Mr. Longbottom. Miss. Weasley." Ginny wiped her head around, looking for the direction of which the voice had come from. 

Professor McGonagall was standing in front of them, blocking the exit of the hallway. 

Neville was the first to speak. _Just full of surprises these days._

“Professor McGonagall. We were just about to head for your office!” Ginny looked at him with surprise; Neville wasn’t usually the first one to speak, and to get straight to the point like that, either. 

The professor raised an eyebrow and cocked her head. 

“I assume that you were also thinking of talking in the middle of the hallway?” Professor McGonagall said dryly. Neville didn’t reply. 

“Well, Professor, Headmaster Snape sent us to you,” Ginny said suddenly, finding her voice and stepping up for Neville. 

“Very well. Come with me,” she said shortly, and left around the corner. Ginny turned to Neville, who shrugged, not really sure what to do either. Ginny decided to follow Professor McGonagall around the bend, and she did just that, without waiting for Neville. She was a little miffled at his behaviour. 

Ginny caught sight of Professor McGonagall once again and walked right behind her. As they walked, she realised they were not heading for Professor McGonagall's office, but rather for unknown part of the castle, a place Ginny wasn’t familiar with. _Where are we going?_

They had entered what seemed to be a somewhat large room; though Ginny wasn’t exactly sure; the room was quite dimmed, with no light coming in except from a small square window to the left. 

Professor McGonagall walked up to a dusty desk and gingerly pulled open a drawer. A fume of dust spewed up in her face as she covered her mouth with a handkerchief and coughed. 

There seemed to be a little slip of paper on the lid, but before she could read it (from the dust she doubted she could anyways), Professor McGonagall had closed the box, sending more dust spraying into the air. 

Professor McGonagall's voice roused her out of her thoughts. 

"I will need your assistance," she said, with a reluctant grimace. Ginny glanced at Neville to see if he was as puzzled as she was, and saw that he was staring straight ahead, right at the end of the deserted classroom, at the old stones of the castle. Neville had on the faraway look that seemed to be his default emotion these days. 

"Both of us?" asked Ginny finally, wanting clarification. 

"Yes. Both of you.” Professor McGonagall frowned. “But before I begin, I need you to promise me something." Ginny looked at Neville again, and found that he was watching Professor McGonagall with suspicion. 

"Promise you what?" Neville asked. Professor McGonagall sighed and pinched her nose. 

"I really hate to ask you of this," she said, not answering Neville's question. "I want you to promise that you will follow my exact orders. Even if I ask you to leave this classroom without me, I expect you to do that. Understand?” She paused, then decided to speak again. 

“I want a oath. On your magic." 

Ginny looked, horrified, at Professor McGonagall. _An oath? On my magic?_ She searched the professor’s face, looking for any sign of joking. Professor McGonagall looked very serious, even more than usual, if possible. She isn't joking. 

Neville was gaping. "An oath? On our magic? To leave you in here?" Neville said, his voice raising a pitch with each word. "Are you crazy?!" His arms were up. 

Ginny gaped at him in shock. Neville Longbottom, yelling at a teacher? 

And not any teacher, but Professor McGonagall herself! 

When Ginny had first met Neville, she had thought for sure that he was a Hufflepuff. But now, she was sure that he belonged in Gryffindor. She didn’t know if it was Neville, or her who had changed. 

Well, there’s no doubt he’s one of us now. Thank Merlin for that, too. Ginny's head glanced back and forth between the two like a tennis match. Neville was breathing heavily, arms crossed. Professor McGonagall simply stood there, with a calm, stony look on her face as if Neville had never spoke in the first place. 

"Yes. I want you to swear upon your magic that if anything happens and I order you to leave without me, you will do so," Professor McGonagall said, sternly. Neville glared at her but didn't say anything. They were trapped, and he knew it. He seemed to be steeling himself for whatever was coming next. 

“Your word? Then we shall begin,” Professor McGonagall said, looking straight at Ginny. She nodded, not really sure of what to say. Ginny trusted Professor McGonagall. She hoped it was a correct decision. 

Ginny pulled out her wand and waited for Professor McGonagall’s next instruction. Neville did the same and silently waited for the professor to speak. 

“Swear it.” Ginny looked at Neville, who gave her a helpless shrug, and at the same time, they began. 

“I swear upon my magic to leave this room without Professor McGonagall if she orders us to. I will listen to every instruction without complaint.” 

As soon the words had left Ginny’s mouth, a long strip of golden light came from her words, slowly wrapping around her body, encasing her in golden light. The same happened to Neville, except for the fact that the light that had left his mouth was an entrancing, bright blue. Professor McGonagall gave a small, grim smile before clasping her hands together. 

“Very good. Shall we begin?” Professor McGonagall walked around the desk and placed her hands on it, similar to what she usually did when teaching. 

“Today, we are going to be strengthening the wards of Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said, as if she was teaching a lesson and not performing dangerously advanced magic. 

She ignored the shocked and confused looks of both Neville and Ginny, and continued. “You have certainly noticed the taboo of You-Know-Who is present, even in Hogwarts, haven’t you?” Professor McGonagall said, eyes glinting as if they had shared a secret joke. However, it diminished quickly, and was replaced by the same stern expression. 

“I will require one of you to grasp hold of the wards before they are transferred to me. The other will be controlling the hold of the wards. At your age, you will not be able to control and hold the wards at the same time.” She explained. “Who will be doing what?” Ginny turned to Neville. 

“Which one will you do?” She asked, her voice in a slight whisper—although she wasn’t sure why. 

"Why does McGonagall need us to do this in the first place?” Neville replied, ignoring Ginny’s question, in the same tone. Ginny shrugged. 

“I’m not sure. You ask her,” she said. Neville nodded (which surprised Ginny again—Neville wasn’t the one to ask questions, especially to such a strict professor) and turned back around to face Professor McGonagall. 

“Professor, just a question, why do you need us? Couldn’t you have done it with Professor Flitwick, or, y’know, Professor Sprout?” Neville asked, the anger that was once in his voice gone, replaced with curiosity. 

Professor McGonagall sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She took off her square spectacles and placed them on the dusty desk. 

“Professors Flitwick and Sprout are currently occupied at the moment,” Professor McGonagall clipped out, her tone making it clear that the subject was closed. Neville raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything (which Ginny was thankful for). 

“Now, who will hold the wards and who will control them?” The professor said, changing the subject. 

Ginny spoke before her mind could think it through. “I will hold the wards,” she declared. 

Neville looked at her in shock. His eyes were saying “I should be the one doing the dangerous stuff!” Ginny gave him a comforting look, ignored him, and stepped forwards. She was leaning against the desk now, closer to McGonagall, who spoke. 

“Miss. Weasley. I didn’t chose you for nothing, but are you sure you want to do this?” She leaned closer to Ginny, looking her straight in the eye. For a moment, Ginny simply observed Professor McGonagall’s eyes, watching the swirls of emotion and wisdom the green orbs held. 

Ginny swallowed nervously, but nodded. “I am sure.” 

Professor McGonagall backed up and sighed once more. “Of course you are,” she muttered. “Mr. Longbottom, I presume your answer is the same as Miss. Weasley’s?” 

Neville nodded, practically radiating determination. “Yes.” 

“Then we shall begin.” Professor McGonagall pulled out her wand and murmured something under her breath. A long strip of light wrapped itself around itself until it became a tall column. 

“Miss. Weasley, would you please take hold of the light, as we may say?” Ginny looked at McGonagall with confusion. Take hold of the light? “Just grab the light. It will stay,” Professor McGonagall clarified, as if she had read Ginny’s mind. 

Ginny looked at Neville for support. He nodded and gave a small, reassuring smile. Ginny smiled back. She reached out and her fingers touched the light. To her surprise and astonishment, she was able to hold it. 

It felt warm and cold at the same time. 

Then, suddenly, the light gave out a sharp zap that ran up her arm, feeling like electricity had shot up. Ginny jumped back, and let out a small cry in pain, dropping the column of light. It fell to the ground, and Ginny jumped once more as it shattered as if it was an actual pillar. She watched with slight guilt as the light sprayed into the surrounding areas, and then slowly disappeared, as though salt dissolving in water. 

Almost immediately, Professor McGonagall was by her side, kneeling on the ground, face scrunched with worry. 

“Are you alright, Miss. Weasley?” 

She had her wand pulled out in a second, and she was scanning Ginny quickly, inspecting for injuries. 

“Yes Professor. I’m fine,” Ginny said, getting up and brushing off her pants, still a bit shakily. Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but didn’t say anything. She got up as well, and looked at Ginny, once again checking for injuries. 

“Are you sure?” she asked again, and continued when Ginny confirmed she was yet again. “I was surprised you could’ve gotten that far with the wards, it took Headmaster Snape quite a few times just to place a hand on them,” Professor McGonagall said after. Ginny thought she could hear a little bit of pride leak into her professor’s words, and felt some herself, too. 

“Well, I dropped them,” she said, abashed. “But I felt a shock. Was that supposed to happen?” Ginny asked, gesturing to the still dissolving bits of shattered light. 

Before answering, Professor McGonagall quickly looked over her shoulder for a moment. She turned back to Ginny quickly after. 

“It happens every now and then, when you desire to improve the wards,” Professor McGonagall replied, giving a small sigh. “Let’s try it again. Mr. Longbottom, why don’t you give it a go?” 

Neville did the same thing, and, as per Ginny had, fell over as the column shattered. 

Ginny ran over the Neville. “You OK?” 

“Yeah,” Neville said a bit sheepishly. “It just gave me a shock.” 

Professor McGonagall walked over to them with concern written over her face. 

“Mr. Longbottom, Miss. Weasley, are you both alright?” Ginny and Neville nodded. Professor McGonagall sighed yet again, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She looked reluctant for something. 

“I shall give it a try. Remember, if I tell you to leave, you must do so, even if it means that you leave me here,” Professor McGonagall warned, and muttered the same spells for the third time. The column of light appeared in front of them, hovering right above the Hogwarts school symbol. Ginny watched as Professor McGonagall was just about to walk up to the column of light and grasp it, when the door slammed open and a chilling voice spoke. 

“Professor. Such an honour to see you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that's it for now! I hope you've liked reading this chapter. We're nearing the end here!


	19. Escapedes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny and Neville meet the man. Luna meets a man who must not be named.

The door open with a loud bang and Luna sat up, a little annoyed, as she was just about to fall into an endless, hopefully peaceful, void of dreams. The door opened and light streamed into the room.

A woman dressed in ripped black robes stood in the door. Behind her were two men, wands drawn. The woman gave a loud cackle. 

“So this is the little girl who has been giving so much trouble to the Carrows!” 

Luna looked up at the voice groggily, rubbing her eyes. A finger was pointed straight at Luna’s face, causing her to draw back with a start, and the woman was laughing at her, her mouth wide open. The laugh was very strange, it was loud and soft at the same time. 

“Nott! Avery! Take her to the Dark Lord, as the Lord has asked!” Bellatrix shrieked. The two men behind her, Nott and Avery, walked up from behind Bellatrix. Luna looked up at them, head tilted, too confused and dazed to react properly. 

A pair of arms reached down and grabbed her roughly. She shook out of her daze and suddenly she could see everything going on with frightening clearness. She was pulled up and she winced as she heard the other witch scream. 

“Where are her chains?” 

Griphook had picked the locks off. Griphook—where was Griphook? 

Bellatrix stood with her wand pointed straight at Luna, who looked right back at her. Then, for the first time, one of the henchmen with the witch spoke, with slight hesitation. 

“Madam Lestrange. It would matter not if she was chained, for the Dark Lord will be with her. And you are here,” he added hastily, shrinking back as Bellatrix glared. 

“Of course, of course,” she muttered. “Walk her out, in front of me, if you may,” Bellatrix said coldly and held the door open. The guard started to walk, and, finally, Luna came to her senses. She screamed like there was no tomorrow; her hair whipping the arms of the men. Her legs kicked, dragged along the floor, her feet scraping on cold ground. 

“Control her!” 

A wave of comfort and warm ran over her. 

A little voice in the back of her mind, whispering, taunting— _ Listen to Madam Lestrange. She will keep you safe. Relax. You’re safe.  _ The voice became louder and louder, more persistent, but at the same time kept its warm and motherly vibe. Luna felt herself falling into the voice, doing as it asked. She felt her entire body relax, and she stopped moving, just drifting in the hold of the henchmen, a serene smile on her face. 

But, then, another voice. Battling with the soft, warm one, causing Luna to be very annoyed; she wanted the other voice only. 

This one was louder, more passionate, and completely different and yet somehow still very similar. It yelled at Luna, shouted like a drill sergeant, to wake up, to find her senses once more. _ Wake up! Are you an idiot? Luna Lovegood, wake up!  _ it snarled.

Luna didn’t know which voice to trust. She chose the Imperious.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the second voice became louder, and stronger. It shrieked at her, almost in a panic. The Imperious dimmed out through the screams of her thoughts. Soon, it dominated her mind. 

She woke up. She found her mind again.

_ Luna! Snap out of it! _

This time, she obeyed, and Luna broke out of the curse. 

-+-+-+-

Ginny stared at the figure standing in front of them, too confused to move. Professor McGonagall had pushed Ginny and Neville behind her immediately, her wand drawn, pointed straight at the man.

“Now, now, Professor. There’s no need to get all violent. No catfight needed,” he taunted. Ginny visibly shuddered, and the man must’ve noticed, for his grin had widened further.

“Stand back,” Professor McGonagall warned. “What are you doing here, Mr. Lestrange?” she said, tone as cold as a midwinter’s gust.  _ Lestrange? Like Bellatrix Lestrange?  _ The sneer on the Mr. Lestrange's face grew wider. 

“Ah, so, Professor. You  _ do _ remember me.” he purred, taking a step forwards. Professor McGonagall raised her wand a little higher. 

“Yes, I do. You had  _ quite  _ a talent in Transfiguration,” Professor McGonagall retorted, the sarcasm dripping from her voice. 

Ginny snuck a quick look at Neville, and was surprised, a little frightened, at what she saw.  _ Vengeance. _ Neville was glaring at the man, with a look of such hatred and fire, Ginny was surprised that Mr. Lestrange didn’t burn up right there on the spot. She had never seen Neville look like that before.

The man hadn’t seem to have noticed them, as his eyes were focused on Professor McGonagall. 

A very, very small part of Ginny, the cowardly part, the part that wanted to flee, and leave the fighting to the adults, thought it was better that the man didn’t notice them. But as though Godric Gryffindor wanted to prove her wrong, the man spoke. To her. 

“Professor. Is that the Weasley girl with you? And the Longbottom boy?” Mr. Lestrange sneered. Neville snarled at him, and Ginny could see his hands quivering with rage. Then it clicked. _ Lestrange. Bellatrix Lestrange.  _ Alice and Frank Longbottom, aurors. Tortured to insanity by the Lestrange family: Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. If Ginny would bet on it, she would guess the man was either Bellatrix’s husband or the other brother. Ginny knew why Neville was so furious now, and her anger simmered up as well.

“That is none of your concern. What are you doing here?” Professor McGonagall almost hissed the last part. The man leaned against the wall, his arm propped up on the on the frame of the door, looking extremely relaxed, with a smirk on his face. 

"Ah, Professor. That is an excellent question. How long did it take you to think of it?" Mr. Lestrange taunted, a light, honey covered tone slicked into his deep, rough voice. He raised an eyebrow, and smiled—though it was really more of a sneer. Ginny felt a burning passion of hate fall into her chest, like fire roaring along her spine and body. 

"I will only ask once more; what are you doing here, Rabastan?" Professor McGonagall snarled in a dangerously quiet tone.  _ Rabastan Lestrange.  _ Brother of Rodolphus Lestrange and brother in law of Bellatrix Lestrange. 

"Ah. First name terms now, aren't we, Minerva?" Rabastan threw back. Professor McGonagall glared at him coolly. 

"I think not. What are you doing in this castle?" The professor asked him once again, pressing the man for an answer. Rabastan raised his wand. Professor McGonagall glanced at him for a moment, and Ginny thought that she could see actual fear sparkling in her eyes. The hate in her chest only seemed to flare up more. Knowing that this trash could cause Professor McGonagall to be frightened made her want to hex him into oblivion. 

"Professor. Perhaps I should be asking _ you  _ that question. As you can probably guess, if you're not as stupid as Professor Carrows have said, which I really hope not, I am rather good friends with the Deputy Headmaster. Which is, of what I know, your old position, _ Professor.  _ The Deputy Headmaster has asked of me to finish up his rounds for the night; he has a rather important meeting tonight that cannot be interrupted,” he explained, a light smile flickering in his features.  _ He’s just toying with her _ . “So, Professor, now it’s your turn. What are you doing in this old, abandoned classroom?" he crooned softly, keeping his wand raised.

Professor McGonagall didn't reply. For once, she seemed at a loss for words, and Ginny was enraged that it was for  _ this man _ . Rabastan, seeing this, continued on. "Perhaps you were working around with magic? And what magic, Professor, would require two wizards, much younger than you, to perform?" 

Ginny snarled, and felt a hint of regret as the man turned his attention to her, though it was quickly overtaken by rage. He straightened up, and walked towards Ginny, footsteps alarmingly quiet. He stopped just shy of Professor McGonagall. 

"Aren't you the pretty little blood traitor, of the damned Weasley family?" he murmured, bent down so they were eye level. "You come any closer," Professor McGonagall warned, her wand raised. Rabastan leaned away from Ginny, and paced closer to the professor, close enough to spit in her face. 

"Or what? You’ll use some worthless spell to knock me off? 'Cause we all know my magic is stronger than your precious McGonagall’s," Rabastan shot his words at Ginny and Neville, and Ginny felt so much loathing for him, it was almost as bad as the Carrows.

_ Leave the room. There is a door in the back, exit with each other. From there, you will find a door. Think of the Gryffindor common room and step through it; it will should lead you there. Rabastan can't follow you through, he's not a Gryffindor.  _

_ Leave. Remember your oath, child. _

Ginny heard Professor McGonagall's voice fill her mind. It was loud and clear and it rang in her ears, the familiar firm, commanding tone. _McGonagall, a Legilimens?_ _How?_

Nevertheless, she was sure that she had heard it, and Neville, too. She desperately wanted to stay back and help her professor, but she was reminded of the oath she had taken. If she was stay, she would lose all of her magic and become a squib. But if she was to leave, she would flee in an act of cowardice. For a moment, that seemed worse than losing her magic.

But she thought of McGonagall, and made her decision. 

Ginny looked at Neville once more, and hoped that he could see her message.  _ Good luck. _

Pushing away her own disgust, Ginny turned and fled.

-+-+-+-

She was in a large room, one of that she had seen before. The living room of Malfoy Manor. It was big, very big. The walls were painted an elegant cream, windows draped shut with dark green curtains. Embellished with complicated embroidery, was the large ‘M’ once again. 

At the end of the area was a single, large window that nearly took up the entire wall. Through the window, you could see the expanses of the garden. It was groomed so precisely it looked unreal and fake, but yet very beautiful at the same time. There were roses blooming in the hedges and of many different colours. White seemed to dominate the colour scheme. 

There was a man standing at the window, his back turned to her. His hands were behind him, loosely together as if he was simply on a late night stroll. In a way, he was—pacing back and forth on the carpet. He wore black robes that had a hood attached to it, flipped up. His hands were deathly pale and seemed very, very unnatural. One of the man's hands fingered a wand, but what type, Luna couldn’t tell.

Luna was forced onto her knees, her arms still tied behind her back. It looked like she was kneeling for the man in front of her. 

"My Lord. I have brought her, as you, the Lord, has asked of me,” Bellatrix said, falling into a low bow; her hair scraped the ground. 

The man turned, and Luna almost choked. 

Small, thin eyes the colour of blood red. Face was as pale as his hands, smooth as marble. No hair. No nose. His mouth was thin, lips barely there. 

It had some kind of beauty to it—no, not beauty—power. Power shone, radiated, from Voldemort. 

He reminded Luna of a dead, but also somehow still alive person. 

Luna recognised him; how could she not? 

His mouth then opened; he emitted a shivering hiss. From a darkened corner that Luna hadn't noticed before, came crawling out a snake. 

Luna watched, too frightened to move, as it slithered over and coiled itself around its master. Voldemort petted its head and allowed it to move a bit more. Then, he spoke to her, in English, in a voice that made Luna shake with fear. 

"Ah. The Lovegood girl, isn't it," Voldemort rasped, tilting his head to get a better look at Luna, who had no choice but to glance away. And even still, she could feel the red eyes bore into herself, as if she was an open book being read. It was piercing, painful; like she was completely exposed to the world. 

It reminded her of Dumbledore's eyes, though the similarity ended there. Dumbledore's eyes, Luna could recall, were twinkling, shining with hope, happiness and love. Voldemort's shone with power, and evil. 

"Dumbledore is dead, and you'll never see his twinkling blue eyes again," Voldemort said sharply, his voice patronising, high and cruel. Luna, if she could've moved, would've stumbled back in shock. Voldemort could read her mind. She immediately regretted not taking Occlumency, and wished that she had picked it up, like her father had once advised. 

Voldemort walked closer and closer to her, until he began to circle Luna, like a bird of prey finding its meal for the day. His hands were once again behind his back and his beady, bright red eyes were focused on her, scanning to see whether she was worthy enough for him, worthy to be his lunch. 

“What has your father been doing? Sending his useless papers that are much like that useless brain of him?” Voldemort sneered, his face scrunching up, making him look more and more unattractive than ever before. 

He studied Luna, his wand not even drawn—that’s how little he thought of her. The anger burst out of her, like fire, coating her in its flames. 

Her father had raised her, loved her and treated her; spoiled her, with all she had ever wanted. After her mother had died, he had loved her even more; she was the last thing left for him. She wasn’t going to let some bald headed, noseless, prejudiced monster talk about her father like that. Voldemort didn’t even deserve to speak of him, nevertheless insult him.  

“Don’t call my father useless!” she spoke, trying for all she’s worth to keep her voice steady. “He’s twice the man you will ever be!” Luna yelled, her voice shaking with fear and anger.

“Oh, I can call your father anything I like, Miss. Lovegood. He is nothing, nothing, I tell you, compared to me. Worthless!” Voldemort shouted back. 

_ “Crucio!”  _

Pain shot through her body, like her bloodstream was carrying it along. Like small knives were stabbing into every pore. It felt like her skin had been peeled back, bit by bit by each passing moment. 

Luna remembered once that she had skinned her knee, remembering that she had watched in fascination and amazement as the skin had slowly peeled back and the blood was oozing out. She hadn’t remembered pain that day, a typical seven year old girl would’ve been crying. 

But this time, she definitely felt the pain. It would be etched into her mind forever, haunting her for the remainder of time.   

Luna couldn’t take it anymore and screamed. She screamed like there was no tomorrow. 

The curse that Voldemort had shot at her was like no other; it was different, more powerful, more painful and much, much stronger. The man before, what was his name? Luna couldn’t even remember, the pain was blinding her mind. He had said that his curse was powerful. But it was nothing, nothing compared to Voldemort’s. Luna had never thought something so painful could happen to a human soul. 

The curse cut off.

From behind her, she heard a loud cackle. Someone was laughing. Laughing, laughing, in her pain. Luna assumed it was Bellatrix, after all, she seemed to gain happiness in a person’s hurt. This made her want to rage at the witch, but at the time, she just didn’t have the energy to. 

So she lay there on the floor, waiting for fate to come to her.

-+-+-+-

Ginny bolted. She turned around and saw, as Professor McGonagall had promised, the door. It was tall and a dark wood that Ginny couldn’t identify. The handle was a gold, roaring lion. 

It was when she yanked open the door that Rabastan noticed. The door had made a loud creak and Ginny stopped herself, freezing at the sudden sound. 

“Wait, where are those—” His words cut off when he mumbled to himself, and Ginny thought she could hear a string of swear words. 

The next few moments passed in a flurry of movement, everything seemingly to have become a blur to Ginny’s eyes.  The man ran towards them. Ginny slipped through the door, completely forgetting to think of the Gryffindor common room as Professor McGonagall had said, Neville following right behind her. She felt his hand skin hers, and he had just missed grabbing it. 

Right before she walked out the other side of the door, Ginny heard Rabastan swear. Ginny wasn’t sure if it was directed at her, or Professor McGonagall—perhaps both?. 

The only thing she saw then, was black, and swirling rainbow sparks within.

The first sense that came back to her was touch. Ginny landed hard on her back with her arms laid out above her head. Her trademark Weasley red hair was eagle spread on the floor and she could feel the texture of the stones pressing into her scalp. She stared at the ceiling of the room she was in and realised there was a chandelier dangling from it— _ wait, chandelier _ ? Shouldn’t she be in the common room? With the Gryffindor red and the roaring fireplaces? There was no chandelier in the common room, at least to her knowledge. She obviously wasn’t in the place she should be. 

Ginny sat up on the floor and glanced around her surroundings. The room was relatively large, and very, very dark. The only source of light was from the chandelier hanging from for roof, but even that didn’t give off very much light. 

Ginny fingered through her robes and round her wand. 

“ _ Lumos. _ ” The tip of the yew wand lit up, glowing with light and spreading it across the room. The walls seemed to be painted with a black wash and they were decorated with crimson red push padding. The ground she was on was still stone, but seemed to have been coated in a gold. In the left corner, there was a chair with a table. To the left of it, was a fireplace. Ginny pointed her wand at the hearth. 

“ _ Incendio _ .” A huge blazing fire burst up in the coal and began to light up the room even more. The room also started to slowly heat up, warming Ginny’s cold bones. 

Right beside the fire was a door. It was the very same one as the one she had came into the room in. She pushed herself off the floor and stood up. 

Wait. Something’s missing. 

Where was Neville? Did he think, like she should have, to go to the common room? Where was  _ she? _

Hoping for the best, Ginny stepped up to the door and turned the handle, remembering to imagine the Gryffindor common room this time.

She stepped through, out of the strange, empty room and into whatever lay after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


	20. Freed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna, Dean, Griphook and Ollivander meet some new recruits.

Neville lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling of the Gryffindor common room. The area around him was lit, the fire was blazing, the torches were lit and the room smelt like fresh evergreen trees. His wand was in his right hand, as it should be. He was in the place he was supposed to be in, as he should. 

Then why did it feel so wrong? Something was wrong, something was missing. He was too dazed to think properly, he made his thoughts slow down.

Neville sighed, and waited. 

Then it hit him—Ginny. Ginny wasn’t in the room with him. Ginny wasn’t here. Neville stood up, wincing at the sudden head rush. 

She should’ve been. She should’ve gotten through the door; she stepped through before he did. She should’ve gotten to the common room, she would’ve listened to Professor McGonagall. So why wasn’t she here? 

Neville walked around the common room, pacing but not knowing what to do. It was deathly quiet and there wasn’t a person to be in the room. It was, after all, 1:00 in the morning. 

Then— _ BOOM.  _ A loud crash. Neville flinched and whipped around, only to find the only person he could wish to see. 

Ginny stood on the stop, wand in hand and the bold, familiar grin on her face. Neville felt his mouth curve up too, and ran to hug her. 

“Ginny! Where have you been?” 

Ginny laughed as she returned the hug. “Oh, you know… ” she said mysteriously, smiling as Neville frowned, annoyed. “Here there, everywhere.” 

Neville raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, unimpressed. 

“OK, OK. I’ll tell you. Sit down,” she commanded, pointed at the ground. Neville rolled his eyes, but nevertheless sat. Ginny followed him. She sighed, propping up her head with her arm rested on her crossed legs. 

“Where to start…” she muttered. 

“What about when you suddenly disappeared when you stepped through the door?” Neville suggested, his voice somewhat bitter. Ginny didn’t seem to have noticed, and began to talk. 

“Well, after we stepped through the door, I was sort of in a panic, and didn’t think when I stepped through,” Ginny explained, fumbling with the hem of her shirt. Neville blew out an exasperated breath. 

“How did you forget? Professor McGonagall spoke to us in our heads! You should ought to remember that!” Neville exclaimed. Ginny looked down at the ground, frowning slightly. 

“I’m not sure. I guess I was too distracted with what Rabastan was saying.” Neville sighed—as if Ginny could be more distracted than Neville had been—but made a gesture for Ginny to continue. “Then, when I walked through the door, since I wasn’t really thinking I guess, I showed up in this weird looking fancy room. It was like a void between and there was a door there, the exact same one that I had appeared through. I thought I should give it a try and opened it, putting my mind to the common room. And here I am,” said Ginny. Neville stared at her. 

“That’s pretty strange. What was the room like?” Neville inquired.

Ginny got a faraway look in her eyes, and she frowned again. She shook her head. “Sorry. Can’t remember.”

“Do you think we could go back to the room?” Neville asked, but before Ginny could say anything, the door of the common room opened, and they were greeted with just the man they had run from. 

-+-+-+-

“So, that’s what happened!” Luna said, her voice awfully, irrationally cheerful. 

They were back at the chamber, sat across from each other. Dean stared at Luna, awed, as she recapped her escapades.

“You did all that?” he gaped, and Luna could feel her cheeks heat up; she wasn’t very used to receiving praise like that often. 

“Not really, it was more instinct than anything else,” Luna said modestly, staring at the ground, trying not the meet Dean’s eyes. 

Dean’s reply was cut off as the door of the chamber slammed open, the wood coming to meet the stone. Two men stood before them, holding in their arms what seemed to be two other, limp figures. They did not speak, simply tossed the two figures into the room, along with an unknown bag. The two men then backed out and closed the door with a loud snap.

The room was met with silence. Neither person, Luna or Dean, was sure about what to do. Luna was the first to make a move. She slowly crawled the large distance across the large room to the two figures. They were curled up and hugged up against each other. 

One was of a man, an elderly one, dressed in ragged robes and stringy hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in a long time. 

The other was of a different species entirely. It was a goblin and it was enrobed in what must’ve been fancy dress clothes, but were torn to shreds and disgrace. 

Ollivander and Griphook?

She scanned them with careful eyes, trying to see if there was anything different since the last time she had seen them—which really hadn’t been too long ago, but you could never be too safe. It all looked the same, but, again, you could never know. They were dressed in such torn clothes that it would be difficult to decipher if they had been tortured. Luna decided at the moment just to let them sleep; they needed the rest, and deserved it as well.

Luna maneuvered around the sleeping figures, then went to collect the unknown package. She picked it up and immediately knew what it was. Their supply of food. She hugged it to her chest and opened it in excitement. She tugged the string apart and carefully laid out the items within the bag. 

Two large loaves of bread, three pitchers of water, a block of cheese and one orange. Their usual supply. Luna decided to save it for now; they weren’t really hungry, and placed everything back into the bag. 

She scurried over to where Dean was sitting and rested beside him. She gave him a tired (but still bright) smile.

“Let them rest—they need it. We’ll talk in the morning. And I think we ought to save this food. Sleep,” Luna said, in a gentle but commanding voice. Dean nodded, deciding to trust Luna, and began to lie down on the stack of hay. But then, he took Luna’s sweater and laid it softly across the two other members in the cell. Luna gave him a gentle smile, letting him know that she was fine with him donating her piece of clothing. Anyways, isn’t that what she did in the first place? 

Dean then curled up into a ball and within minutes, his soft snoring filled the room. 

Luna leaned against the wall and rested her head back, closing her eyes and letting out a loud sigh. Where they ever going to get out? When was this going to be over?

-+-+-+-

He wore an expression of a storm, the beginning of a hurricane. He looked nowhere as elegant and put together as he did when Ginny first saw him, and she wondered what Professor McGonagall must’ve done to him— _ or, maybe, what we have done.  _

Rabastan was raging up to her like a five year old, wand jabbed into her cheek. Neville, at the same time, had gotten up, and he too, had his wand drawn. He had not made a move yet, in case Rabastan was to threaten Ginny with something. Rabastan had the upper hand. And the right to yell in Ginny's face too, as it seems. 

"YOU! WHORE OF HARRY POTTER! COME WITH ME." 

She was so shocked that no reaction came from her—she simply stared, wand still gripped. Rabastan continued on, but in much more quiet tone, so quiet it seemed deadly. 

"Come with me and I'll give you a taste of what I had to go through, because of _ your kind _ ," he seethed, and grabbed Ginny by the collar, choking her. She was right up against his face, and she could see beads of sweat trickling down his face, and the scent of what she thought was fresh blood on his breath. 

A jet of red shot right at Rabastan. His attention was diverted, and now was glowering at the person who sent the spell, Neville. 

He was in a ready stance, his wand pointed at the man, shaking with anger. 

"You say that to my friend. SAY IT AGAIN!" Neville shouted, his voice ringing through the empty room. "I dare you. Say it again." The last part was in the same soft deadly tone. Rabastan first glared at him, but then the anger on his face twisted into some type of mad happiness. 

"HA! You think you are better than me,  _ me,  _ Neville Longbottom," Rabastan laughed in his face, "I have heard you can barely cast a Banishing Spell, nevertheless defeat me!" The man then cackled, his laugh echoing around the room. Even so, Neville stood his ground. 

"I may not be as powerful as you, or as talented as you, but I will be one thing. I will defend my friends, my family. I won't run," Neville said calmly, his voice showing no signs of anger—but in his eyes, Ginny could see a spark. A spark of hope, of bravery. 

It was then, when Ginny truly realised something—Neville would stand up for his friends, he would stand up to them, always. Ginny had always wondered why Neville was placed in Gryffindor, he seemed so much like a Hufflepuff. When she first met him, he had told her he thought he belonged in Hufflepuff—and at that time, Ginny thought so too. But now, she thought differently. She could see why now. Neville had changed. The war had changed him. 

It had taken him from a shy, nervous boy to a brave young man. But one thing stayed with him. His hope, his hope in hope. He held it beside him, all throughout the way. 

And at that point, Ginny couldn't help but be proud. She thought,  _ I wonder how his parents would feel.  _

_ Proud. Like I am.  _

Footsteps came through the walls of the common room, from the dormitories up above. 

Rabastan looked around him in fear, his eyes growing wide and darting around. Her expression said,  _ oh, no. _

Oh, _ yes. _

He glared at Ginny and Neville for one more time, before hissing out one parting word, 

"You and your friends are little bastards. Remember that, Longbottom. And good luck to you, Weasley, with your little boyfriend. Hope he'll be alive," Rabastan sneered. "This isn't the last of me. We'll meet again. I will promise you that." And with those words, he swiftly stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

For a moment, everything seemed silent.

Then, the footsteps came back, as though the world had paused and someone had hit the play button once more. Students came flooding into the common room, in groups. Many of them were rubbing their eyes and some still had their eyes closed—they were all in their pyjamas. But what Ginny heard were mumbles. Curious, suspicious mumbles of “what happened?” and “what’s up with them?” However, before Ginny would react to any of this, the common room door opened once more. 

Professor McGonagall stepped through, ducking her head. She looked the same as the last time Ginny saw her; a little battered and bruised, but not overly hurt. She began to say something, but saw the crowd of people and quieted.

Ginny looked anxiously at Neville, who in return, shrugged his shoulders.

But that was solved for both of them, for Professor McGonagall’s voice rose over all the murmurs.

“Students, may I have your attention?” The room fell silent once more, everyone turning to the professor, eager for answers. Once Professor McGonagall was satisfied, she continued on. 

“What are you all doing?” she exclaimed, her voice rising with each word. Ginny and Neville looked at each other, but didn’t step up. A young first year did though. Elizabeth. She slowly raised her hand and walked out of the crowd to Professor McGonagall. The professor nodded at her, and Elizabeth began to speak. 

“Um, well, Professor, we, as in my roommates and I, heard yelling from the common room. It woke us up, and well, we thought that we would go and see what was up. It seems the rest of the House heard it too—it sounded like someone was angry, and, you know, it was like this feeling, like we all knew there was something wrong,” Elizabeth said, her voice shaking a little, but still audible. Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Elizabeth continued on. 

“And, I’m pretty sure it was a man shouting, with some, er,  _ crude  _ language.” Elizabeth looked down at her shoes, not sure if the information she just gave was important. 

“Thank you very much for that, Miss. Abagot. The data you provided me was very significant. Now, all of you go back to bed. You still have classes tomorrow,” Professor McGonagall commanded, and the students followed her instructions, a little gratefully—though some seemed unsatisfied with the little information she had to give, but nevertheless followed. 

"Miss. Weasley. Mr. Longbottom," Professor McGonagall called over the many heads of students leading up to bed. Ginny and Neville shared a not-very-surprised glance and made their way through the crowd. Once they made it to Professor McGonagall, she was at the entrance of the common room. She leaned in to talk to them, and spoke in a hushed tone. 

"Watch your back. We are in dark times, remember this. Don't walk blindly into things. Trust no one." And with these words, the professor slipped out of the common room and out of sight. With a puzzled look, Ginny turned to Neville.

"What was that about?" Neville didn't immediately reply and stared into the burning fireplace with a dark expression etched into his face. 

"We are in war, Ginny," Neville said, and turned to the stairs of the dormitories. Ginny didn't follow him, and when she didn't, he didn't look back and disappeared. 

Ginny's mind was lost in her thoughts. It's been a weird, weird night.  _ Answers sometimes give you more questions than it explains.  _

-+-+-+-

They sat around in a circle, all huddled together, nibbling away at their food, the room enshrouded in silence. It was like a thick, heavy, uncomfortable blanket. Luna had placed her portion of bread down; she didn’t have much of an appetite. She simply sat back and watched the rest of them, laying her hands down on the grainy floor of the cellar.  

Ollivander and Griphook had been thrown back into the cell with her and Dean. Luna couldn’t figure out why, why the Death Eaters would keep them together, so they would have a higher chance of escaping. It would be smarter to keep them apart. However, Luna knew that Voldemort wasn’t completely stupid, he was the most powerful wizard, since Dumbledore was gone, and there had to be a reason for placing all the prisoners in one cell. There had to be some kind of catch.  

As Luna pondered this, she hadn’t realised that there were noises coming from outside of the cell. Voices. As they became louder, it seemed the people speaking were walking by. 

"Take the rest, but keep the mudblood," a low, male voice growled. Luna could almost see the nod from the other Death Eater, for there were two voices heard before. She could imagine the vile mask expressionless, but the face underneath grinning with pleasure of another muggle-born being captured. But who were "the rest?" Who else had been taken; it had to be an Order member or…   _ No. It can't be. Harry can't be captured. He can't!  _ Luna thought. As if the Death Eaters outside had pried open her head and read her mind, the door slammed open, the light streaming in once more, like the many times she had seen it done. Perhaps this would be the last.  

But what stood before her, she wasn't prepared for. Nor had she ever seen it before. It was sight to behold. 

Harry Potter,  _ Harry bloody Potter  _ stood before her, bound in ropes, his clothes tattered and torn and a pained expression on his face. 

Then, a shrieking, piercing cry reached her ears. At that moment, everything, even the thought of Harry Potter, was shoved out of her mind by the agony of the scream. It was loud and clear, and it was incredibly painful. The pain of the scream seemed to have reached her, whatever the person was screaming about felt reached her. Pain. Of a loved one dying. 

Suddenly, as quickly as it had started, it had stopped. All was left was a muffled sob. 

Luna could not see who was screaming, but she did see something else. Ronald Weasley was thrown into the cell as well. And though he was bound in ropes like Harry, he began to shake as must as possible, to break free. 

Ron began to yell again, his face reddening from the struggle. 

"HERMIONE!" He withered on the floor, shaking with the sound coming from his throat. 

"Be quiet!" Harry said. "Ron, we need a work out a way—" Ron ignored him and continued on yelling. 

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" Harry shushed him again. At this point, Luna stood up carefully and examined the both of them. She decided it was up to her to take action. To step in.

"We need a plan, stop yelling—we need to get these ropes off—" Luna interrupted him. But, as she realised no one listened; they couldn’t see her.

"Harry?" she whispered, not wanting to scare them, but that didn't seem to work, so she decided to reveal herself. She slowly emerged from the darkness into the light. "Ron? Is it you?" 

"Harry? Ron?" She tried again, receiving no reply. 

"Luna?" Harry's familiar voice reached her ears. Luna beamed. Harry recognised her after all!

"Yes! It's me! Oh no, I didn't want you to be caught!" She added quickly, getting all her words out in a rush. 

"Luna, can you help us get these ropes off?" asked Harry, his voice small, yet confident at the same time. Luna replied eagerly. 

"Oh yes, I expect so…  There's an old nail we use if we need to pick a lock or something…  Just a moment… "

A scream came from above, the same shriek she heard earlier. Hermione, Luna thought. Hermione was muggle-born. That's who they were talking about. Bellatrix screamed too, one of glee, but she was overpowered by Ron. 

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" he screamed. Luna ignored this and moved over to Ollivander, where the nail was. 

"Mr. Ollivander? Mr. Ollivander, have you got the nail? If you move over a little bit…  I think is was beside the water jug." Luna found after a few seconds of digging and hurried back over to Harry and Ron. 

"You'll need to stay still," she said, holding the nail in her hand. She began to pierce the rope with the nail and tugging the knots free. 

Bellatrix spoke again, and this time, it was clearer, and Luna could hear what she was saying. 

"I'm going to ask again! Where did you get this sword! Where?" 

"We found it—we found it—PLEASE!" Hermione screamed again. Ron struggled harder than ever, and the nail slipped onto Harry's wrist. Luna nearly dropped it. 

"Ron, please stay still!" Luna whispered urgently." I can't see what I'm doing!" The darkness was getting to her, and if she wasn't careful, she would cut Harry or Ron. 

"My pocket!” Ron said, after a moment of confused silence. “In my pocket, there's a Deluminator, and it's full of light!" Luna nodded and ran around Harry to reach Ron. She slipped her hand into his left pocket and pulled out a muggle lighter of sorts. Not wasting any time, she clicked it and the room was filled with light. 

Luminescent spheres hung in the air like giant floating lamps. The room was flooded with light and Luna could see again. 

"Oh, that's much easier, thanks Ron," exclaimed Luna, and she began hacking at the binds again. 

Bellatrix's voice came again. 

"You're lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!" 

Another terrible scream—Luna had almost ripped the ropes apart. 

"HERMIONE!" The ropes were beginning to fall apart. 

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth, or I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!" At last, the binding came undone, and Luna shook her hand, riding it of cramps. 

"There!" The ropes fell away and Ron began to run around the cellar, looking around for an exit, a way to leave. 

Ron was now trying to Disapparate without a wand. Luna shook her head at him, almost amused at the slightly comical scene. 

"Thanks," Harry said to her, and Luna simply nodded. 

"There's no way out, Ron.” Luna then said, trying to placate him. “The cellar is completely escape proof. I tried, at first. Mr. Ollivander has been here for a long time, and he's tried everything."

Hermione was screaming again, and Harry too, had began to run around the room, banging on the walls for some type of exit, even though Luna had told him there was none. 

"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!" Hermione's screams echoed off the walls upstairs and Luna was shaking with fear. 

Luna had remembered her torture, and she was sure she didn't feel as much pain as she heard from Hermione. Bellatrix must be even better at this job than Voldemort, she thought. She couldn't even think about the agony Hermione was enduring. She covered her ears as Harry and Ron tried fruitless things; Harry pulled a snitch and spoke to it, Ron continuing to pound the walls. 

"Help us! We're in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, help us!" Luna watched as Harry yelled at a piece of a broken mirror, and felt a hint of confusion. However, all thoughts about it had been shoved out by Ron's yelling. 

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" 

"How did you get into my vault! Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?" 

"We only met him tonight!" Hermione sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault... It isn't the real sword! It's a copy! Just a copy!" 

"A copy?" screeched Bellatrix. "Likely story!" Luna clamped her hands over her ears even tighter, blocking out all sound. She sunk down to the floor. She didn't want to hear it anymore, she didn't want to hear Hermione's pain and know that she couldn't do anything about it. It would kill her. She shut her eyes too, blocking out the world. 

A loud crack sounded in the room. Luna's eyes snapped open.

"DOB—!" Ron exclaimed. Luna looked around and noticed something. Griphook was gone. They must've taken him. Luna prayed for him to be alright. 

Dobby the house-elf stood before them, his enormous, tennis-ball eyes wide and his entire body shaking. He was back in his old master's home, and it scared the living hell out of him. 

"Harry Potter. Dobby has come to rescue you," Dobby said, his voice shaking. Harry stared at him in shock. 

"But how did you—?" An awful scream stopped him mid-sentence. Luna had to prevent herself from clamping her ears again. Hermione was being tortured again. 

"Can you Disapparate out of this cellar?" Harry asked Dobby, eyes gleaming, who nodded, his ears bobbing on his head. "And can you take humans with you?" Dobby nodded once more. 

"Right. Dobby, I want you to grab Luna, Dean and Mr. Ollivander and take them—take them to —"

"Bill and Fleur's," said Ron. "Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth!" The elf nodded for the third time. 

"And then come back. Do you think you can do that, Dobby?" 

"Of course, Harry Potter," whispered the little elf. He hurried over to Mr. Ollivander, who seemed to be barely awake, and and grabbed his hand. He extended the other to Luna and Dean. 

"Harry, we want to help you!" Luna said incredulously; she had just come in touch with Harry Potter, and she wasn’t going to leave so soon!

"We can't leave you here," chimed in Dean. Luna nodded, agreeing. 

"Go, both of you! We'll see you at Bill and Fleur's!" Harry exclaimed, shooing them on. Hermione screamed again. 

"Go! Go! We'll follow, just go!" Harry whisper yelled. Luna glanced at him one more time, to make sure he was sure of what he was doing. Reluctantly, she grabbed Dean's hand, and she fell into a darkness of the Apparition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! :)


	21. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fights, losses, and betrayal.

“Neville, don't you see? This is exactly what I’m talking about!” Ginny exclaimed, her voice straining. 

Neville was standing before her, his fists clenched tight. His eyes were stormy, tinged with fire. _ More than she had ever seen before, from anyone, _ she thought. Ginny felt herself slowly back away from Neville. 

She was afraid of Neville. _A_ _fraid_ of him. When did it come to this? Neville was supposed to be the small, sweet boy, scared of his own shadow, looking up to Ginny. He had changed. _ She  _ had changed. The war had changed both of them. Neville, the lovely, caring boy, had been twisted into something dark. Something broken. 

Ginny pleaded with her eyes, palms raised up.  _ Please, Neville. Don’t do this.  _

Neville paused. Then, as if he had understood, he slumped down against the wall, his head rested in his hands.  _ This year has hurt us more than I thought it would. Much, much more.  _

Ginny walked over to where Neville was and sat down beside him. She leaned her head against the wall, and the pair sat in a heavy silence. 

Ginny was the first to break it. “Neville?” she asked, her voice quiet. 

He looked up. “What is it, Ginny?” he spat, voice harsh. “What are you going to say now, Ginny? That you're sorry?” He scoffed. “Do you think sorry's going to cut it? Sorry this, sorry that! When are you really going to be sorry? When?" He rambled on; he had gotten up and had began to pace the room, faster and faster.

"When are you actually going to think, Ginny? Think! Think before you do anything! Don't just rush into some type of situation, think! When?" Neville yelled, facing Ginny, who was still hunched on the floor, now trembling a bit from this outburst. 

Then, her jaw set, her Gryffindor roared. She got up and pulled herself to match his height, got up in his face.

"You're one to talk, letting your emotions get the better of you, clouding your thoughts. And you tell me to think!" Ginny retorted, her mouth working much too fast for her brain to register. Neville narrowed her eyes at her, and opened his mouth, but quickly closed it. Then opened it again, and this time, he spoke. 

"You think you're so clever, talking back to the Carrows. You're not doing anything other than getting into bigger problems. Think about other people too, Ginny. The world doesn't revolve around you," Neville spat back. Ginny glared at him and responded before she could think. 

"Why, like you're any better, stealing stuff off professors' desks," Ginny scoffed, crossing her arms. 

"And professors' things I shall steal, since information seems to be so important to you! And, you know what? You're on your own now. I don't think you'll need my help, as you think _ so much _ before you do," Neville retorted, and with that, he left the room in a huff, slamming the door behind him. The dust spurted up behind him. 

Ginny sat there, dumbfounded, shocked that she and Neville had such a fight.

This was different. They were both trapped in dark, dark times and now that Ginny thought about it, she didn't know whether she trusted Neville or not. She didn't even know if Neville trusted her. Would she ever know? McGonagall's words came back to her mind. 

_ "Watch your back. We are in dark times, remember this. Don't walk blindly into things. Trust no one." _ What had the professor really meant to say? Did she know something Ginny didn’t?  _ If she was trying to help, it didn't work really well, did it?  _ thought Ginny bitterly. It just turned friend on friend. 

It wasn't really what Neville had said that bothered Ginny. In fact, she didn't really hear what Neville had said about her. It was his tone. It sounded like he meant it. Like he meant that Ginny was left on her own. 

Oh, if only Luna was here! Never had she ever, ever missed her friend so much. Luna had always been there for her. Sure, she was a bit quirky, but it was Luna. Everything about it was so Luna. And a world without it pained Ginny to no end. She had no idea whatsoever about where her friend could be, what she could be doing, or what could be happening to her. 

Ginny hadn't heard word about Harry either, nothing about the Boy-Who-Lived. How she wished everything could be like when they were young and innocent, and knew nothing of the world around them. But even with Ginny, that was never meant to last. 

She could remember the days when Tom Riddle had possessed her, and the day she had been left there to die. It still haunted her, the chamber, the giant snake. 

“Miss. Weasley. It is such a pleasure to see you again.” 

Ginny’s head snapped around to the sound of her name and saw Headmaster Snape standing before her, a sneer etched upon his face. He was towering over her, and since she was sitting on the ground, Ginny suddenly felt very small. 

She quickly stood, defiant, and drew herself up to match Snape’s height. She was almost as tall as he was. She looked him in the eye and spoke to him in a very solemn, steady voice. 

“I’ll be on my way, Headmaster,” she said. The headmaster nodded and pulled the door open for her to leave, giving her a mocking bow. 

“Next time Miss. Weasley, don’t come back to this classroom again. You have been warned,” Snape added, once Ginny was right on the foothold of the classroom. Ginny gave him a puzzled look, but the door had been slammed in her face. She stood there for a while, pondering the Headmaster’s words. 

_ So many warnings now,  _ she thought, referring to Professor McGonagall’s words. Then, she found herself walking back to the common room, her feet leading her rather than her mind. 

Thoughts ran through her mind as she walked, one sticking out like a sore thumb. 

_ What was Snape doing in that room? It’s just an unused classroom…  _ It wasn’t like the room was in the dungeons, Ginny knew better than to be caught there.

Once she reached the common room, she gave the portrait the password:  _ Vigilate.  _

She stepped into the room, letting the warm air brush over her. She decided to head up into her dormitory, hoping to get some homework done. Perhaps even the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies, she thought with disgust. But little did she know that that was the little peace she would get in the next few months to come.

-+-+-+-

It started small—Ginny realised one day, during lunch—Elizabeth. She was gone.  _ Perhaps she doesn’t feel well,  _ Ginny wondered.  _ I hope she’s alright.  _ A swirling amount of thoughts ran through her mind about Elizabeth, each one getting crazier than the other. It ranged from the young, blonde girl being kidnapped by a troll, to Voldemort secretly killing her in a secret room out of the castle. 

Ginny shook her head. She didn’t need these excess thoughts clouding her mind, she had enough going on.   

And, with that, it was pushed out of her mind. Ginny’s mind didn’t wander back to it during class, or anything of the sort. 

Except she wasn’t anywhere to be seen the next day, either. And the next. The days passed by without even a glimpse of the small, blonde-haired girl prancing through the halls. The two braids were never seen whipping around a corner in a rush to get to class. No small bows of many shapes, colours and sizes were left in the common room for Ginny to pocket, and hand to her later. 

A couple days later, Ginny began to worry. The thoughts came back, haunting her once more. She had always seen Elizabeth, whether in the halls, at lunch, or between classes—at least once a day, just small talk, nothing more. But she hasn’t seen Elizabeth—not a shadow. Nothing. 

And Ginny suspected she wasn’t just sick—especially with the Carrows’ around. Growing suspicious, Ginny decided to snoop around; better safe than sorry. Anything was better than being hurt by the Carrows. 

At first, it seemed no one knew. It seemed as though she had asked the entire school about Elizabeth. And it was just when she was about to lose hope, when one day, Lavender came up to Ginny. And she brought news about a certain blonde haired young girl.  

“Ginny,” Lavender whispered urgently, tugging at Ginny's arm across the table. 

Glancing over, and spotting her friend’s pale face, Ginny excused herself from her meal. Together, silently, they walked, and automatically, they reached the common room. Ginny gave the password to the portrait:  _ Fiduciam. _

Once she was sure no one was around to hear them, Ginny turned to Lavender. 

“Elizabeth,” she said, more of a statement than a question. Lavender’s eyes confirmed what she was about to say. 

She nodded, then spoke. “I know I told you I didn’t know where she was,” she spoke quickly, urgently. “But I heard something today.” Ginny nodded, and gave her a hand gesture to indicate for her to continue. 

“So, I had classes with the Carrows, and it was stupid and all that. But today, they he, Professor Carrow, ended class early. And you know that’s weird; he never ends class before the bell. His sister ran through the door right after and they jumped into a deep conversation. So, you know, I slowed down my packing and went  up to eavesdrop a little, and…” Lavender slumped and her normally bright brown eyes were dulled. “They’ve got her in a dungeon of sorts. I don’t know where. I’m sorry.”

She finished, and Ginny gave Lavender a tight hug. “Thank you, Lav,” she mumbled into the other girl’s shoulder, although she was immensely worried, not to mention raged. “You have done enough. I think finding information is very helpful.”

Lavender looked pretty relieved, but then again, some worry was clear in her eyes. Then her face turned serious. 

“Gin, you’re not going to do anything… rash, aren’t you? Think whatever you’re gonna do through before, okay?” 

“Yeah, I know,” Ginny muttered, slightly ignoring Lavender’s words. “Let’s go back before we’re late for class,” she said, dismissing their small, yet important discussion.

-+-+-+-

 

“I’m not doing it,” Neville snapped. Throwing her arms up, Ginny snarled, 

“Why! At least give me a reason!”

“You never give me a reason for your usual, hot-headed ideas, why should I have to?” Neville surged forwards, but caught himself and leaned away, crossing his arms.

“Why are you so ticked off about this? See this, the way you can’t control your anger, is exactly why I wanted Logan to do this with me instead of you!”

“Oh, so it’s  _ me  _ who can’t control their anger?” Neville snapped out. “Have you even seen yourself?”

Hot-headed, Ginny started to respond, but Neville interrupted her. “OK, fine. Do what you want. I’ve told you this, and I’ll tell you again. I don’t care anymore.”

And with that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

_ Oh, alright then. I don’t need Neville this time. I’ll show him,  _ Ginny thought, anger overtaking her common sense.  _ We’ll see who’s right, when I come back with Logan and Elizabeth, both utterly safe. Logan won’t ditch me. _

The next week was spent in a flurry of planning. Logan showed up every time, chiming in occasionally with a new precaution or idea. A plan was quickly formed.

Neville, Ginny noticed, was doing absolutely dandy. She had spotted him more than a couple times hanging around this girl, Hannah. They seemed to be perfectly content, which irritated Ginny to no end.

Perhaps out of bitterness, Ginny buried herself in planning even more, fine tuning and whatnot, anything she could do, she did.

It was a perfect plan, and, thought Ginny as she lay in her bed, unable to sleep: it would be followed through much sooner than it felt.

-+-+-+-

The bright, early morning sun shone through the windows of Ginny’s dormitory, sprinkling out rays of sunlight. The glass of the windows separated the lines of light into intricate patterns, much like a delicately drawn work of art. The trees outside were a lush green, spring finally arriving after the bitter winter, and the sky was an endless blue. 

Morning. 

The day flew by, Ginny constantly going through the plan in her mind, dazing off. It really seemed nothing would go wrong; she had looked at every possible problem, and had composed multiple plans in case they would become present.

Logan met up right on time—midnight. He led Ginny into the Slytherin common room, and, as quiet as they could possibly be, tiptoed into the dungeon.

They were greeted with a whole new world.

They stepped into a room with complex, medieval time-like designs etched into the wooden floor. The room had no windows, save a small square one, riddled with thick iron bars. Through the imprisonment of the window, Ginny could see the silver crescent of the moon. Though small, it still shone bright, bringing some light into the very cramped room. The stone walls were caked with filth, and the air was pungent; Ginny automatically scrunched up her nose.

Then she saw her.

Tied up with heavy metal chains, her once-gorgeous mane of blonde hair now tangled and muddy, head down. Her clothes were tattered and torn, as if they had been ripped to shreds by some type of mysterious force. She had a bright orange butterfly clip in her hair, and it seemed to be the only thing that was untouched. It sparkled in the dim light of the night moon. 

Logan made a choking noise in the back of his throat, and Ginny would’ve too, if she could even speak. She felt as though her mouth had been clamped shut by some type of magical restraint. It was as if she was staring at a corpse. Ginny could only hope that it wasn’t.

They ran over, and Ginny let out a cry of relief as Elizabeth moaned and opened her eyes slowly. “Ginny?”

Gathering up the frail girl up in her arms, Ginny whispered into her hair, “Yes, it’s me. Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here.”

She muttered  _ Alohomora _ ; the chains unlocked, strangely easily. Then, she ushered the girl back, then turned around to go after her.

“Let’s go,” Ginny said, turning to Logan. Her foot got snagged on a chain. She tugged on it, annoyed, to no avail. Ginny looked at Logan. “Help me.” 

But she was greeted with a strange sight.

Logan’s face was twisted, as he blinked, and mumbled. “I can’t.” He turned away, eyes filled with anguish. Then, the pain in this eyes disappeared. A cold, hard look masked his face, making him look like a marble statue. 

Ginny was flabbergasted. “What do you mean, you  _ can’t?” _

“I think, I just think, it means that I can not help you take Elizabeth away, nor can I help you untangle yourself from whatever you have gotten caught in,” Logan replied, his voice cold and a simpering grin on his face. Ginny looked at Logan, desperate in denial. Logan would not do this, this was not Logan. What? Why? How? She thought, her mind completely shocked. 

Ginny’s fists shook, and she forced herself to stay calm. 

_ “How could you?”  _ Ginny seethed, turning on Logan. A finger was pointed at him, jabbing him in the chest. “I trusted you! I refused for Neville to come along!” She let out a bitter, scornful laugh. “When I this time, I was wary of him, when it should’ve been  _ you.  _ Logan, you backstabbing bastard. Words can’t express how much I hate you.”

She watched, panting, as Logan, still head down, cried. Silent tears running down his face, shivering shoulders. She didn’t care, and she never will again.

With a quivering breath, Logan turned, and raised a shaking arm. He said a word, barely above a whisper.

The chains that had once bound Elizabeth wrapped around her limbs, starting with the one her foot had “accidentally” snagged on. Ginny did not yell or thrash of any sort—there was no point. Logan slowly walked closer, slipping a quivering hand down her pocket, and Ginny was frozen in shock. But he only pulled out her wand, and didn’t say anything. 

He fingered it, as if he was inspecting the wood, and slowly slipped it down his own robe pocket. Then, he slowly backed away from Ginny and turned his back on her, walking to the door. However, right before the door closed, a note fluttered down onto the ground. Ginny didn’t pick it up, nor could she.

He left, and Ginny was alone, her only accompaniment being the lingering scent of defeat and the utter despair of betrayal.

-+-+-+-

Eyes stinging with tears, Logan ran into an empty classroom and collapsed onto a desk. His mask fell away, leaving a painful, heartbroken expression. He took out Ginny’s wand and twirled it around in his hand. Red sparks came off the end and Logan could tell it was powerful magic. 

Wiping his eyes, Logan sunk down to the floor and shivered, even though it was spring. He resisted the overwhelming urge to go back for Ginny—he couldn’t. Not after what Rabastan said.

_ How did he know?  _

_ Well, it’s almost certain he was the capturer. _

He hated it—having to choose. He hated having to pick—his family or his friends.

Well,  _ friend  _ would be more accurate. 

He hated this so called choice. They say that to have a choice, a pick, was a beauty, a blessing, a gift. 

He hated it. Despised it. 

_ I need to go back. Ginny _ —a wave of fresh tears threatened to spill over.

_ No!  _ a louder, more rational voice yelled.  _ Your family, or her—remember what Rabastan said! _

_ But, Ginny…  _

_ It’s already done. Your family’s safe. Besides, she hates you now.  _

And with that thought, the tears overflowed, and Logan sat there, shivering, silent, sobbing.

_ Stupid. _

-+-+-+-

_ Stupid. _

The word echoed in Ginny’s mind, filling up its space, as she drew her knees close, head in her arms.

_ Stupid. _

She should’ve known. How was she so blind, so completely, utterly, blind, to what he had to be planning? How did she not see? How?

_ Stupid. _

Neville was right. Sooner or later, it was going to all blow up in her face. No, It did more than blow up in her face. It nearly killed her. She should’ve listened. Why didn’t she? Even Rabastan thought so.

Eyes filling with tears, Ginny roughly wiped them away, only to have the chains bound around her wrists cut roughly into her face. She tried to even out her breathing and clear her mind. But even still, it continued. The endlessly streaming thought.

_ Stupid. _

_ Stupid. _

_ Stupid. _

-+-+-+-

How long, she did not know. 

How long had she been sitting there, crying her heart out? How long was it, since the betrayal? Ginny couldn’t remember; her thoughts were blurred with tears, along with her vision. Every time she stopped crying, tried to do something, the memories would hit her like a wave. A wave, of everything that has happened, all building up to this. 

Luna, Logan, Neville, Harry—it was inescapable, and the tide had finally caught up to her. Holding everything in was worse, much worse, than having the emotions spill out, even with her pride. If only emotions didn’t exist! If only she couldn’t feel things, wouldn’t that make things easier?

_ No, Ginny, it wouldn’t!  _ the tiny voice in her head argued back. And it was right. If she didn’t feel, if she didn’t love, she would’ve been dead ages ago. 

Then something changed.

Ginny felt a presence. When she looked up, no one was there. She wanted to do something, to fight, cry for help, anything—but she did nothing, simply lay her head back down, and remained silent. It was as if she had lost her energy, her motivation. 

Slowly, the figure began to take image, perhaps stripping away its charm.

And Ginny looked up, expecting Rabastan, The Carrows, hell, even Snape—but she was met with a person she never thought she would see.

“Neville?”

“Hey,” Neville responded lightly, expression unreadable. He bent down, and kneeled besides Ginny. 

“You… You found me.” 

With a small, crooked smile, Neville responded. “With the help of Lavender, and a very lucky Gryffindor you saved, yes.”

Then he fell silent, and Ginny did not feel the need to speak. Perhaps, she feared shattering the fragile bond they shared this moment. It may be gone soon, her mind warned. Treasure it. She had not taken anything for granted as much as she did Neville, and she regretted it terribly.  

He worked at Ginny’s restraints almost feverishly. Ginny knew it was useless, told Neville the exact thing, but he simply gave Ginny a knowing look, and continued.

Her chains fell away, and Ginny gaped, wringing out her sore wrists. “But how—”

“I had help. Some people know this dungeon better than anybody. And, surprisingly, Lavender somehow knew a lot, as well,” Neville answered, and helped Ginny up. “Come on.”

As they walked out of the dungeons, Ginny felt a slight, non-corporeal veil cover them. A charm. 

Finally, she couldn’t stand it. “Neville,” she blurted out, and it seemed he knew it was coming, as he turned, stopped walking, leaned against a wall, and stared. 

“Neville, I’m so sorry. I should’ve trusted you, I swear, I didn’t know, I was stupid, you’re right, Logan shouldn’t be trusted, I—” Neville held up a hand, and Ginny stopped abruptly, staring at him. 

He smiled, maybe with a tinge of scorn, and Ginny’s heart was heavy. “Ginny, you can’t do this.” He deadpanned. “Hindsight is a very, very dangerous thing. If you dwell on it, it’s going to destroy your mind. It happened. It is the past, and we are living in the present.” He shrugged. “Anyways, I’m just saying, you should’ve been more careful. That was it. And, I have to admit, I was hotheaded. Maybe a bit jealous—friend to friend,” he clarified, and Ginny smiled, feeling relieved. “That’s it. Just be more careful.”

“I know,” Ginny breathed out. “I know, and I’ve learned my lesson.”

Neville’s smile turned more sincere. He raised a hand, and they exchanged a thumbs-up, both smiling as if sharing an inside joke. 

“Good. Now,” he tilted his head. “Let’s go.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this incredibly fast-paced chapter! :)


	22. Easter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny receives a letter. Or, was supposed to.

“Miss. Weasley.” Someone called from the back of the classroom, just as she was leaving. Ginny turned and saw Professor McGonagall, beckoning her with a hand. 

“Yes, Professor?” she politely asked, looking the professor in the eye, attempting to search for why she was wanted. 

The professor glanced at her before looking through her desk and picking up a short piece of parchment.  “I request for you to meet me in my office, tonight at 10:00,” Professor McGonagall said, in her normal crisp and sharp dialect. Ginny looked at her, a tad bewildered. 

“Yes, but Professor, that’s after curfew,” she pointed out.

“I am well aware of that, Miss. Weasley,” the older witch said as she looked once again down at the scrap of parchment. “No matter, we will meet at 10:00, and I would like you to be dressed in school robes. There is something I would to  _ discuss _ .” She emphasized on the last word, though Ginny didn’t know why.

Ginny nodded, curious as to the reason for this past-curfew meeting —well,  she was going to find out later, anyways. “Is that all, Professor?” she asked, completely ready now to leave to see Neville — they were planning to start up D.A. once more, right before Easter holidays. 

“One more thing. I have a favour to ask of you, Ginny,” Professor McGonagall added, her voice lowering just a smidge. Ginny noticed the use of her first name, and her attention was piqued. She looked at the professor with more interest this time, and her wanting to leave evaporated.

“Would you be willing to pass this onto Professor Flitwick for me?” 

The professor pulled out a drawer behind her desk and produced a thick envelope with an elaborate, emerald green seal. Ginny nodded with a shrug and Professor McGonagall handed her the package. 

“The seal won’t open without Professor Flitwick’s magic, Miss. Weasley, don’t even think about it,” Professor McGonagall said, a hint of smile on her face. Ginny gave her a small smile back. 

“Thanks, Professor.” 

McGonagall shook her head. 

“No. It should be I thanking you. Now off you go!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed, making a shooing motion with her hand. Ginny left the classroom with a smile and bag in hand, almost running towards the common room (for she was late to meet Neville), weaving through the throngs of students milling around the halls. 

She reached the common room and Ginny found Neville sitting in his usual large armchair by the fireplace, forehead furrowed in focus as he scribbled onto a sheet of parchment. She dropped her bag onto the chair beside it and pulled out the letter for Professor Flitwick. She smirked a little as Neville still didn’t notice, and so Ginny reached over and lightly shook him. 

“Oh, hey Ginny,” he said, giving her a slightly startled smile before returning to his work. Then he looked back up again, with an expression of curiosity. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the letter. 

“McGonagall asked me to sent it to Flitwick. Weird, right? Couldn’t she just tell him?” Ginny mused. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”

“We can’t open the letter either; only Flitwick’s magic can do that. Which makes it even weirder, since she could just owl it if she wanted to. Nobody else could read it that way,” Ginny explained. 

“Hmm. It’s strange, isn’t it?” Neville pondered. Then he shrugged with an air of resignation. “Nothing we can do about it. Anything else?”

“Oh, I’m meeting McGonagall at ten tonight,” Ginny remembered. “Dunno why, but she’s coming to get me, since it’s going to be past curfew by them,” she added. Neville nodded absentmindedly and began to sift through the tall stack of textbooks he had in front of him.

“Studying for N.E.W.T. ‘s?”

Neville nodded once more with a sigh, and the pair lapsed into silence as Ginny, deciding it would be for the best, pulled out her homework too. 

“Hey, hand me that letter,” Neville suddenly said, completely out of the blue. Ginny looked up, mentally shrugged, and pulled out the envelope of her bag. Neville placed his homework on the coffee table in front of him absentmindedly. 

“OK…?” Ginny said, confused. 

Neville pried at the seal, but as Ginny had expected, the letter stayed firmly shut. He then pulled out his wand and whispered a spell Ginny didn’t quite catch. 

The envelope floated up into the air, spinning around in sprinkling, sparking dust. The seal of the parchment broke open and the letter fell out at their feet. 

Ginny stared open mouthed and glanced between Neville and the letter.

“What? How?” 

“I’ve been studying how the teachers use their magic just in case, for D.A. and stuff, and how they perform it. Flitwick’s was definitely the easiest; a few flourishes here and there, and a snap of the wrist at the end of defense spells. Sprout’s a little harder; she has more actions and it seems rather random,” Neville explained. 

Ginny blinked. “Why?”

“Well, if we ever need to use Polyjuice for something, and the professors being people we would probably transform into, it would be useful. Or something like that, anyway. 

“I haven’t gotten McGonagall’s yet though. Her magic’s different, somehow. Stronger, or just too precise for me,” Neville said, pointing at the stack of parchment on the coffee table. “That’s the notes I’ve been taking during class.”

“Wow, Neville, you really did a lot, didn’t you?” Ginny said in awe, picking up a scroll of parchment and skimming it. She read things like ‘finishes words with ‘tsk’,’ and ‘holds wand up with index finger higher up on handle.’ 

“It was sort of easy, at least with Flitwick and Sprout. The Carrows weren’t hard at all; slur your words enough that it sounds like them, but not enough to mess up the spell. Though if you do screw up, it’s not that big of a deal because people are expecting that from them.” 

“At least I am,” said Ginny dryly. 

He nodded, smiling, and picked up the parchment off the floor. He unfolded it, and another piece of paper fell from the first letter. Ginny bent down and grabbed it, the words shocking her eyes. 

_ Severus Snape, _

_ This is your Lord. Harry Potter has escaped Gringotts and has stolen something from there. He will be heading for Hogwarts next. Keep your eyes out and the castle guarded. Minerva McGonagall is especially talented at this; use her and is she doesn’t comply, torture her into it. She will do it soon.  _

_ Do as I ask. Otherwise you know what will happen.  _

_ -The Dark Lord _

-+-+-+-

Luna sat on the outskirts of Shell Cottage, right on the edge of the Fidelius Charm, in front of Dobby’s grave. In one hand, she spun her new wand around her fingers nimbly. Her original one had sadly been left in Death Eater hands: She was not sure if it had been snapped or not (although even if it wasn’t Luna doubted she would get it back). Ollivander had been kind enough to make another for her, free of charge. 

She and Dean were bound for Hogwarts soon, and this was her last night at Shell Cottage. Griphook had already left with Harry, Ron and Hermione —they couldn’t stay in one place for long, n ews that the trio had escaped already reached Shell Cottage, just a few days ago. 

Ollivander was going to stay at Shell Cottage for a little longer, until he had decided what to do now. Bill and Fleur had been very kind about it, they didn’t mind at all —or, they seemed to— Luna tried to spend as much time out of the house as possible; the couple were at Shell Cottage as a replacement of a honeymoon. She felt like an embarrassed trespasser, very much in the way. 

Luna trailed her wand lazily around in the sand, looping out intricate, though meaningless, scribbles.. 

Hogwarts, she mused. I’ll get to see Ginny again, that’s for sure. Neville too. She wondered how they were faring; did Ginny get into any more detentions? Did Neville start up D.A. again? She was excited to go back, that’s for sure. 

But what she was truly going to see, was a completely different matter. She was very, very lucky, that she was even alive right now. 

Feeling goosebumps, Luna’s hand went up to her face, and traced the long scar running down her face, from the tip of her cheekbone to the beginning of her chin. She smiled a little, thinking about how she and Ginny had matching scars now. Like twins, she thought happily. Matching. 

Almost absentmindedly, she pointed her wand above Dobby’s grave and waved it wordlessly. Small, sparks of various colours flew out of the tip of her wand; tiny, delicate fireworks. They seemingly lazily floated around for a moment. Then:  _ Thank you, Dobby.  _

“We really do owe him our lives, don’t we?” 

Luna turned around, and was not surprised at all to see Dean standing right behind her, hands in his pockets, face grim. He sat down beside her, and pulled out his wand too. 

Gold, silver, bronze and black sprinklings of light went to join the red, green, blue and yellow, floating aimlessly around them.

“Thank you, Dobby, for saving us,” Dean said, his voice soft, and his eyes green. 

In the distance, the sun began to settle on the soft, blue ocean, the fireworks looking very out of place and fake, compared to the natural beauty of nature. 

“Thank you, Dobby,” she spoke softly. “You were never meant to die, though you did. You were never meant to be free, but you became free. I guess you did lots of things you weren’t meant to do,” Luna said with a small, slightly bitter, smile, conjuring a white lily and placing it on the grave. 

Seeing Luna, Dean then stood up and began digging around the beach for a large stone. When he found one, he planted it standing straight upright in the sand, sitting side by side to Dobby’s. Dean used his wand and carefully carved into the old, rusted away stone: Ted Tonks. Husband, father, grandfather, and a true warrior until the very end.

“That’s very nice of you, Dean,” Luna said, helping him secure the stone into the sand more firmly. 

“I’m not being _ nice.  _ I’m doing what I have to do. He did what he had to do.” 

Luna nodded. She conjured, once again, a pure white lily and laid down by the grave. 

“To Ted Tonks. I did not know you very well; barely really. But what I do know, is that you have the heart of an angel, the hands of a healer, and the soul of Helga Hufflepuff herself. There’s a reason Andromeda Black fell for you. You were one of the kindest people I have ever met, and I will make sure you would not have died in vain,” Luna said quietly. She waved her wand silently and a shower of soft, yellow rose petals rained down onto the grave, swirling along with the the fireworks, until they scattered and vanished into the air. 

“Hey, Mr. Tonks. I knew you for a few weeks, and that was it. You don’t even know how much I have to thank you for. You let me join you. You did not deserve to die. Especially since you were a muggleborn.” Dean took a breath and placed a trembling hand on the grave. “You did not die in vain, and for me to die. I’m going to fight as hard as I can,” Dean declared firmly. He then got up, and without another word walked back up to the Cottage, leaving Luna with her thoughts, and the setting sun. 

-+-+-+-

Ginny stood right at the entrance of the Gryffindor common room, waiting for Professor McGonagall, doing that awkward feet shuffle people do when waiting. As the professor had asked, she was in her robes, and Ginny fiddled with its hem nervously. She played with her wand in hand, attempting to twirl it, and glanced impatiently at the grandfather clock in the common room. 

9:58. Two more minutes. 

9:59. One more minute.

Ginny paced around the door, unable to stand still anymore. When the clock struck ten, the door of the common room finally swung open, and Professor McGonagall walked in, stopping short of Ginny. 

“Miss. Weasley. I am glad to see that you’re ready,” she said shortly. “Come with me.” After that, McGonagall left through the portrait hole and Ginny had to jog a bit to catch with the professor’s long strides. They headed in the direction of McGonagall’s office, a route that Ginny had long memorised by now. 

Once they reached the tall, familiar door of the office, McGonagall pointed her wand at the fireplace, making it burst up in flames, warming the dark room. The professor clearly had not been in the room earlier. 

“Sit, please,” McGonagall said, gesturing to a chair in front of her desk. Ginny sat down in the seat, and waited patiently as Professor McGonagall hung up her cloak and sat down. 

“I presume you already know why you are here today,” Professor McGonagall said grimly, with an air of apology. Ginny looked at her in confusion, but McGonagall didn’t notice for she was shuffling some papers around on her desk. A nervous twitch, Ginny realised with astonishment. Since when did Professor McGonagall get nervous? And, for what?

“I’m sorry, Professor, but I actually  _ don’t _ know,” Ginny said, tilting her head curiously. Professor McGonagall’s head snapped up, and her eyes narrowed at her. 

“You didn’t get the letter?” 

“What letter?” Ginny said, her voice hollow.  _ A letter had been sent to me?   _

Professor McGonagall placed her head in her hands and rubbed her temples, removing her glasses. 

“That, that,” the professor said, seemingly speechless. She ran her hand through her hair, making wisps of strands come out of her bun. She shook her head, amazed. “I was expecting many things tonight, Miss. Weasley, but it certainly was not that.”

Ginny looked at McGonagall, flabbergasted. 

“Who was supposed to send me a letter?” 

“Your mother.” 

“My mother?” Ginny repeated in bewilderment. 

“I believe that is Molly Weasley?” Professor McGonagall remarked rather dryly. GInny didn’t reply and sat on the edge of her seat, waiting for more. “Your mother will be arriving shortly. That was what the letter was going to say. It’s fine, she’ll be here either way,” she added as Ginny started to open her mouth. With that, Professor McGonagall left the room through another door, leading presumably to a bedroom, leaving Ginny alone and wondering what the hell was happening. 

Suddenly, Ginny heard a loud crackling noise in the background, and turned towards it. 

The fireplace had flared up dramatically and turned bright green as a figure stumbled out. 

“Ah, Molly. It is nice to see you again,” Professor McGonagall said, coming back into the room, wand in hand. Ginny’s mother dusted off the ash on her robes and shook Professor McGonagall’s hand with a smile. 

“And I to you. Sorry about the ash, Minerva,” Mrs. Weasley said apologetically. 

“No worries,” McGonagall replied, waving it away with a flick of her wand. Molly then leaned in and whispered something in McGonagall’s ear; she nodded, expression grave. 

Mrs. Weasley then turned to face Ginny and a huge grin broke out on her face. 

“Ginny!” 

Ginny rushed up from her seat and jumped into her mother’s arms. 

“Mum!” She stuffed her face into her mother’s robes, inhaling the soft lavender perfume her mother wore. Ginny pulled back first and from the corner of her eye, she could swear that she saw Professor McGonagall smile warmly. 

“Hello, my dear. Come on, we’re going home!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed happily, grabbing Ginny’s hand and heading towards the fireplace. 

“Wait. Mum, what?” Ginny asked, stopping her mother and digging her heels into the carpet. 

“We’re going home!” Her mother repeated, a happy glint in her eye that Ginny wasn’t quite too used to. 

“But I have school, here! At Hogwarts?” Ginny scrutinised her mother with a searching eye. Her mother nodded. 

“Yes, yes I know, but your father has already set up the charm! Come on, dear, you’ll be fine!” Mrs. Weasley tugged on Ginny’s hand, but she stopped her once more, waving it away, a little annoyed. 

“Why is everyone assuming I know what’s going on? What charm?” 

Molly froze on the spot, smile gone from her face. 

“You didn’t get my letter?” Ginny shook her head uselessly. Mrs. Weasley looked frantically at Professor McGonagall. 

“I do not know if it had been lost or intercepted, Molly. You best get going,” the professor said, a worried look on her face as she summoned what Ginny recognised as her trunk. 

“Why am I going home?” Ginny asked loudly, exasperated, looking between the two adults standing before her. 

“That will be explained once you get arrive there, Miss. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, rushing Ginny and her mother closer to the fireplace. 

“Come on, Ginny. Speak clearly, ‘The Burrow’. I’ll be right behind you,” Mrs. Weasley said, stuffing a handful of Floo powder into her fist. When Ginny hesitated, her mother glared at her, panic in her eyes. 

Knock. Knock. Two loud taps on the door made them all turn. Professor McGonagall gave the both of them a piercing, frantic look and whispered, 

“Both of you, go! The Carrows must’ve gotten the letter instead!” McGonagall said, while glancing nervously at the door. 

That done it for Ginny. So what if she didn’t know anything about what was happening? Her past with the Carrows flared up and Ginny immediately turned back to the fireplace and stepped in, saying in a hushed, hurried tone “The Burrow,” as clearly as possible. She was swallowed into the flames and disappeared.

Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace in her home, and Fred’s face immediately greeted her. He caught her by the arms, attempting to spin her around (and failing miserable) until she shook him off with a glare.

“Aw, it looks like ‘ickle Ginny is in a foul mood, don’t you think, George?” Out of nowhere, George popped into the room, a grin plastered over his face. 

“Do shut up, Fred,” Ginny shot back with an eye-roll. She turned back to the fireplace, waiting for her mother nervously. She peered into the fireplace, as if it would have some kind of indication that her mother was appearing soon. “Aren’t you two supposed to be at the store or something?” Ginny said, not taking her eyes off the fireplace.

“Didn’t Mum tell you? In the letter?” George asked, his voice for once serious. The twins shared a look that Ginny was much too familiar with and didn’t bother trying to understand what it meant anymore. 

“No. The letter was lost, or intercepted,” Ginny replied bitterly. She didn’t bother explaining any further (no one did for her, she reasoned) and continued to wait by the fireplace for her mother.

And something did appear —but not her mother.  A patronus in the form of tabby cat floated in front of her, taking Ginny, Fred and George by complete surprise. 

“Isn’t that McGonagall’s patronus?” Fred asked, in shock, for once not trying to crack a joke. The cat then opened its mouth and spoke in a clear, loud tone.

“Miss. Weasley, your mother and I had a small delay, and your mother will be arriving shortly. Do not panic, we just had a small run in,” the voice of Minerva McGonagall said, and then disappeared away in a gust of wind.

Ginny looked at George, and George looked at Fred, and Fred looked back at Ginny.

“What do you reckon happened?” George asked.

“I bet the Carrows caught up with them. I bet it was them who got the letter,” Ginny replied bitterly.

Just then, a harried Molly Weasley stumbled out of the fireplace, with a trunk floating behind her.

“Mum! Finally! What happened?” Ginny exclaimed, running up to her mother, and grabbing the trunk.

“Nothing. It was nothing,” her mother replied, shrugging off her cloak and draping it on a couch. Ginny glared at her.

“Yeah right. Seriously, Mum. Tell me,” Ginny said.

“Ginny’s right,” Fred said, agreeing with her sister. George nodded.

Mrs. Weasley sighed wearily. “Sit down, all of you,” she said with a sigh, pouring herself a cup of tea. “This is going to take a while.”

-+-+-+-

Logan spread the newspaper out on his desk in the sixth years’ Slytherin dormitory, hands shaking with dread. The large, black, bold title glared up at him: THREE WIZARDING FAMILIES KILLED —MORE BELOW. Logan’s eyes scanned the page frantically, eyes flicking through the names, praying to everything he knew. 

He stopped cold at the last two names on the list. His fear was confirmed. Imelda Erudia. Roland Erudia. His mother and father. Logan stared at the newspaper in complete, utter shock, sliding down the wall until he was sitting on the ground, his head in his hands. 

He could see his vision beginning to blur and the tears beginning to fall. He picked up a vase off his roommate's bedside table and hurled it at the snake portrait right above the fireplace. He could feel the anger taking over inside him, like a fire burning to burst forth. 

Logan shook his head with fury and grabbed a fistful of Floo powder, throwing it into the fireplace. He practically screamed the words “Lestrange Manor” and jumped into the fire, letting it carry him away to the house of Rabastan Lestrange. 

Once he got to the manor, his first instinct was to yell, scream it all out of him. So he did.

“RABASTAN!” he heard himself holler, voice utterly soaked with anger, and he grabbed his wand and pointed it at the man sitting calmly in a tall, black chair; the man’s fingers laced together. The expression on his face was almost sickening; a small smirk with dangerously glinting eyes was all Logan saw. 

“HOW DARE YOU! YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T KILL THEM! YOU PROMISED! You promised…” Logan screamed, until his voice gave away, until he came down to his knees.

Rabastan slowly got up from his throne and approached Logan. He placed two thin fingers under his chin and lifted his head up, forcing Logan to look at him. 

“My, my, someone’s got a temper,” Rabastan said softly, his smirk growing wider. “I didn’t kill your parents, you know.” 

Logan glared at the man, tears still in his eyes, as he got up and walked to the back of the room, pulling open the curtains, letting the sunlight stream in. 

“Then what made you think I was talking about my parents?” he snapped angrily. Rabastan turned back around, rolling his eyes. 

“Who else would it be? Your sisters?” he sneered. “I doubt that possible, with them at Hogwarts,” Rabastan said, his voice vile. Logan snarled and pointed his wand at him. 

“I’m going to kill you, Rabastan. YOU’RE GOING TO PAY!” Logan screamed, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. It didn’t take much.

Rabastan looked at Logan with a lazy smile. “Are you sure about that? Do you really have the nerve? You barely had enough  to turn on your dear friend, Ginny Weasley. Who says you’re going to have the skill to kill  _ me?” _ Rabastan challenged. 

Once again blinded by grief and guilt, guilt he now realised was all for  _ nothing,  _ Logan ran up to the much taller man and stuck his wand at Rabastan’s neck. 

“Goodbye, Rabastan Lestrange,” Logan whispered, with a dangerous determination. Then, he shouted, “AVADA KED—” 

Then, all of a sudden, Logan’s wand disappeared and Rabastan stood behind him,  _ Logan’s _ wand in hand. Rabastan snarled at him, and pointed the wand straight at him. 

“How dare you try an Unforgivable. You think you can cast an Unforgivable!” He barked a scathing laugh. “I guess you are as stupid as you made yourself to be! Your mother cried for you, you know,” he continued with a sigh, “right before I killed her. She cried for you, as I told her the sad sob story that is now your life. I told her, oh, I said it all, about how I forced you to betray your only friend, how you loved your poor mother so much you were willing to do that, and about tipping the Carrows off when Ginny Weasley was supposed to safely leave with her mother. It was a shame that we didn’t get the girl, only the stupid professor and mother,” Rabastan spat, jabbing the wand in Logan’s cheek. 

“Your mother cried, and it was even before I killed your father, the mudblood,” Rabastan continued on, smiling sickeningly at Logan. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t want to know how his parents died,  _ he didn’t want this anymore!  _ He didn’t want to live in fear!

“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!” Logan cried out, ending with a broken sob. Rabastan’s smile grew even bigger. 

“No, I don’t think I will. Your mother was a beautiful woman, you know? Pureblood, traditional, until she ran off with that mudblood bastard.” His eyes darkened dangerously. “She was supposed to be mine, _ all mine _ . And you know what, she is mine. Her body was mine, right before she died. All mine,” Rabastan said, his eyes growing glassy at the thought, a dazed, dreaming smile. Logan gasped and backed away in horror, disgust.  _ No, that couldn’t have happened,  _ he thought.  _ No, it’s not possible. _

Rabastan shook himself out of the daze. “I think this will be the end of you, Logan  Erudia, ” he said, pointing the wand at him. 

Then, suddenly, Rabastan grabbed his left forearm and gasped in pain. He disappeared on the spot, in a puff of black smoke, leaving behind nothing but Logan’s wand. 

Logan smiled to himself, relieved, weary, miserable, at the same time. He picked it up and grinned, despite the serious circumstances. Then, walking towards down into the basement where he knew Rabastan kept his potions, he grabbed what appeared to be a bottle of firewhisky, half empty, and placed it on the table in the room he was originally in, the room he took it from. It transformed back from its charm, back into the Draught of Living Death. He left a note along with the potion, 

_ Bottoms up. Enjoy! _

He then headed for the fireplace, grabbing a fistful of Floo powder and travelled the several miles back to Hogwarts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you so much for reading!


	23. Reunion

“Ready?” Bill asked, looking at Luna and Dean, a sparkle glinting in his eyes. 

“Yep!” Luna replied brightly, fiddling with her wand with a hand as she grasped onto Bill’s hand with the other, ready for Apparition. Dean nodded on the other side, and Bill prepared his wand.

“Alright, we’re leaving for Hogwarts!” Bill called over his shoulder. Fleur came bouncing out of the house. 

“Good luck, come ‘ome to me, Weasley!” she said, adoration clear in her eyes as she kissed all three of them on the cheeks. 

Luna smiled and kissed her cheek back.  “Thank you, Fleur and Bill, for letting us stay.” 

Fleur grabbed her hand tightly and looked her in the eye.  “It’s been an ‘onour. Write us ven you arrive, and good luck, Luna Lovegood,” she said solemnly, giving her a smile that reminded Luna of Molly Weasley. “And to you too, Dean T’omas,” she added. 

Dean nodded, and shook her hand.  “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”

Farewells aside, Bill looked at the two expectantly. 

“Ready?” They both nodded, and Fleur stepped back a bit. 

“Goodbye!” Fleur cried out. She waved, and that was the last thing Luna saw before she was whisked away miles, back to Hogwarts.

Luna opened her eyes, and a large metal gate stood tall before them, with fancy, swirling designs weaving in and out of the bars. Luna looked at Bill and he nodded.

“This is where I leave you, I guess,” he said, putting down Luna and Dean’s trunks.

“Thanks, Bill. Really, it was extremely kind of you to allow us to stay. I’ll owl you later,” Luna said, grabbing her trunk and beginning to push open the gate.

“Yeah, thanks Bill. See you soon,” Dean added, grabbing his baggage too.

“You two better owl, and I’ll see you both soon,” Bill said back, waving to them as they walked through the gates onto Hogwarts grounds. Once she and Dean reached the large doors of the Entrance Hall, Luna looked back and saw Bill standing at the end of the path, right as he waved, and as she pushed the door open, she watched as he Apparated, and left.

“Ready?” she asked Dean, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. He nodded and Luna pulled the door open and they both slipped in. Luna, however, instead of heading for the Ravenclaw common room, followed Dean to the Gryffindor one. He gave her a puzzling look as she began to trail him, but didn’t question anything, used to Luna’s antics by now.

Luna hoped that Neville was in the common room; it would certainly be awkward if she was seen going up to the boys’ dormitories. Once Dean reached the portrait of the common room, Luna made a face and shuffled nervously as she realised that neither of them knew the password. Luna and Dean shared a dreaded look, and Dean was the first to speak.

“OK, I’ll leave the baggage here and you watch over it. I’ll go to McGonagall and ask her for the common room password. I’m sure she will tell me. You should probably Disillusion yourself too; weird for a Ravenclaw to be outside of the Gryffindor common room.” Luna nodded, but then she frowned and suddenly stopped him right before he left.

“Dean, aren’t you supposed to be a criminal? If you were seen by the Carrows or Snape, you would be done for,” Luna said, grabbing his arm. He turned around and looked at her with a reassuring smile.

“It’s fine Luna, I’ll be careful. And besides, it would be rather suspicious if a Ravenclaw was asking for the Gryffindor common room password,” Dean replied with a smile. Luna laughed along with him and nodded.

“OK. Just be careful?” Dean nodded back.

“I’ve done this before,” he said with a small smirk. “I know my ways.” Luna rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand to turn herself invisible, and sat on her suitcase, swinging her feet absentmindedly.

Soon, before she knew it, Dean came back.

“The password’s ‘flobberworm',” Dean said, as the portrait hole opened. Luna kept on her her Disillusion spell and walked into the common room right behind Dean, holding both of their trunks. The common room was empty; it was rather late, and Luna, with a bout of disappointment, thought that Neville was probably sleeping.

“You can take it off now, you know,” Dean said suddenly. “The Disillusion Charm I mean.” Luna nodded, and raised her wand, pointing at her; muttering the counter-curse.

“There.” Dean turned back around to her and grabbed his trunk from her hand.

“Thanks. Neville’s probably in the dormitory,” Dean said. Luna nodded and followed him as they walked up the stairs to the seventh years boys dormitory.

“Have you thought of starting up D.A. again?” Dean asked as they climbed the seven flights of stairs.

“We have considered it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Ginny and Neville had brought it up again,” Luna replied, watching the ground as she climbed.

“OK, if they haven’t and when you do begin, tell me OK? I want to fight. I want to join,” Dean said as they reached the door of the dormitory. He pushed the door open and Luna, disappointment turning into giddiness, saw Neville sitting on his bed, his nose in a textbook. Seamus Finnigan was lying down on the bed across from Neville, writing something on a sheet of parchment.

“Hey Neville, Seamus,” Dean said quietly, with a small, slightly mischievous smile, and both of the boys looked up from the work, grins bursting out on their faces. 

“DEAN!” Seamus exclaimed, running up to him and hugging him hard, and Dean hugged him back.

“Nice to see you too, mate,” Luna heard Dean whisper and she thought she heard him choke up a bit.

“Hi, Neville,” Luna said, waving to him shyly. He did the same as Seamus and hugged Luna. He then pulled back, still holding Luna by the shoulders and examined her.

“You alright?” Luna nodded.

“Never better,” she said. “What about Ginny?”

“She went to McGonagall’s, not sure what for though. She just left, should be back soon,” Neville replied, letting Luna go. “Where did you go? Where did the both of you go?” Luna and Dean shared a look and Dean sat down on his bed and placed his trunk at the end.

“Let me unpack first. Luna will explain,” he said.

“Why do I have to explain?” Luna whined, completely unlike her, and she found herself at the end of Seamus’ and Neville’s wands.

“What did was your cover story for luring Snape out of his office when we went to steal the sword?” Neville forcefully asked, and Luna felt his wand digging into her neck.

“That I was sleepwalking?” Luna replied, a little hesitant. Neville lowered his wand and so did Seamus. Neville nodded at the other boy and he began to question Dean.

“Sorry, it just sounded, not very, er, you, when you said that,” Neville stammered. Luna smiled at him.

“It’s fine. And about that story,” Luna said and she sat down on Harry’s bed as Dean and Seamus joined them. And, rejoiced with her friends (most, anyways), Luna recounted her adventures.

-+-+-+-

“Both of you, go! The Carrows’ must’ve gotten the letter instead!” Minerva whisper-shouted, trying to keep the fear out her voice as she heard the knocks on the door. She saw Molly push her youngest daughter to the fireplace and as Ginny disappeared.

“Molly, go!” She hissed, pulling out her wand. At the moment precisely, the door slammed open and the Carrow brother  walked in.

“My, my, my. What have we got here? Professor McGonagall with Molly Weasley!” Amycus exclaimed, pointing his wand at both of them.

“Oh really?” Another sickening voice sang from right out of the office. Then, Alecto Carrow walked in, wand too in hand.

“What could Molly Weasley be doing here right now? At this late of an hour!” Amycus said, a smug smile on his face.

“We were simply meeting about Miss. Weasley’s grades. As a professor, you should surely know that parents are to meet with professors at least once a year?” Minerva said as innocently as she could, gripping her wand in her robe pocket. Alecto glared at her. Amycus, on the other hand, smiled a sweet, sickening smile that made Minerva want to gag.

“Of course Professor, but could you explain the long time you took to answer the door? It wouldn’t have taken long, just excused yourself and welcomed us in,” Amycus said, his wand still out.

“Minerva just had to use the washroom and I wasn’t sure if I should’ve opened the door. It seems now, I should’ve,” Molly said, before Minerva could say anything. She nodded.

“Yes, I was using the loo. So sorry about the inconvenience,” Minerva said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice only to miserably fail.

“Then what about the boy?” Alecto snarled. Minerva had to keep herself from stepping back in shock. How did the Carrows know of Dean? Muggleborns on the run were already not very well known (unless they had the list) and Dean had just gotten onto grounds.

“What boy?” Minerva asked, deciding to play dumb. Molly looked at her and they shared a look.

“You know very well what boy I’m talking about,” Alecto snapped, stepping closer to McGonagall and pointing her wand at her neck.

“I’m afraid I do not know what boy you are talking about. There are many boys in the world,” Minerva replied, stepping back from Alecto’s wand and drawing her own. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Molly had her’s out too.

“Dean Thomas, the mudblood,” Amycus added, glaring at Minerva. She glared back at him.

“Dean Thomas has not stepped foot into the castle since last year, in June. If he has come back, why do you need him so? He has every right to stay in the castle; he is indeed a student, is he not?” The sister and brother shared a look and pointed both of their raised wands at Minerva.

“Where is he?” Amycus snarled, once again jabbing his wand into Minerva’s neck. She forced herself to stay calm and not hex the man into the next century.

“I do not know. As I have told you before, Dean Thomas has not set foot into this castle since last year. Now if you please, I have some important business to discuss with Mrs. Weasley here,” Minerva said, pushing Amycus’ wand away from her neck and turned to face Molly.

“Well I think that important business can wait,” Alecto said. Minerva, sensing what was about to happen, looked at Molly and indicated with a hand gesture for her to leave. She then raised her wand slightly from her side and pointed it at Molly, whispering the spell for Legilimency.

_ Molly, leave now, before they can get to you. Your daughter will be wondering where you are. _

Mrs. Weasley’s eyes widened and Minerva knew that she had gotten her message. However, she made no move to leave and stayed rooted on the spot. Stubborn, noble Gryffindor, Minerva thought, wanting to smack herself. Amycus raised his wand once more and Minerva silently cast a shield charm in front of her and Molly, completely ready for the Cruciatus Curse to bounce off. As expected, when Amycus and Alecto both shouted ‘Crucio’ the two jets of bright red light collided with the invisible shield charm. Taking advantage of the shock in the moment, Minerva hustled Molly over to the fireplace and stuffed a handful of Floo powder into her hand.

“Go! Miss. Weasley will be waiting for you. Go, before I make you,” Minerva exclaimed, nearly pushing Molly into the fireplace when she hesitated. Just as the green fire disappeared, Minerva raised her wand and pointed it at the Carrows.

“Obliviate.” Both of the siblings eyes turned glassy and they collapsed onto the ground. Minerva cast another quick spell to replace the memories with another; Snape couldn’t suspect anything.

Then, the Carrows got up suddenly and walked out of the office as if in a trance, and Minerva waited until they had walked out of sight. Next task, time to warn Dean. 

Minerva opened a secret passageway in her office leading straight to outside of the entrance of the Gryffindor common room; all Heads of House had one, in case they need to reach the common room in record time. She gave the password to the portrait and walked in, thinking that Dean was probably in the seventh years’ boys’ dormitory. She climbed the steps two at a time, lifting her robes as she did. When she reached the door, she knocked twice. Minerva thought she had heard frantic whispers before a grinning Neville Longbottom greeted her at the door.

“Hello Professor, how may we help you today?” Minerva raised an eyebrow at the much too cheerful reaction, but didn’t question it. 

“I am here to speak with Mr. Thomas. I assume he is here right now?” Neville stepped back in shock about her mention of Dean, but nevertheless let her in.

Dean was sitting on one of the five beds in the dormitory and Minerva felt her heart hurt when she realised that two of the beds would remain unoccupied for the year.

“Mr. Thomas.” The boy looked up from his notes and looked startled to see her there.  _ I supposed I don’t venture up into the boys’ dormitories very much. _

“Professor!”

“I would just like you to know is that you should not attend your classes. I would’ve never thought I would say that, but they know you’re here. Best be it you stay in the dormitory, or the room on the seventh floor; third corridor.” And with that, Minerva left the room with the boys wondering what the hell she meant.

-+-+-+-

“What do you mean Ginny’s not here?” Neville asked, as politely as he could as Professor McGonagall broke the news to him.

“Miss. Weasley will not be returning to Hogwarts. That is, what I think I meant,” came the crisp, sharp reply.

“But Professor, there must be something I can do—” McGonagall turned around suddenly from writing lesson notes on the chalkboard.

“There is nothing you can do, Mr. Longbottom. Take my word for it.” Neville stared the professor in the eye, shocked.

“You mean there’s nothing you can do?” Neville asked, flabbergasted.

“I said nothing of the sort. There’s no point of trying. Now, Mr. Longbottom, I believe you have a lesson?” Professor McGonagall said, clearly dismissing him. Neville glared at the back of McGonagall when she turned back around and continued to write onto the chalkboard. He fumed his way to the Dark Arts, and his mood got no better when the foul, pungent scent reached his nose.

Amycus Carrow stood at the front of the classroom, and surprisingly, a line of first years waited patiently behind him. What are they doing here? Or have I simply gotten to the wrong class?

When he looked around the classroom, he knew that it couldn’t be, for Seamus, Terry, Padma, and Parvati were sitting in their normal seats. Terry had a look of disgust and revulsion etched upon his face and Seamus was clenching his hands.

“Ah, Mr. Longbottom, how nice you to join us,” Carrow said, and Neville glared at him and sat down beside Seamus.

“What’s going on?” he whispered to the other boy.

“Dunno, but I doubt it’s going to be good. Just look at the first years,” Seamus whispered back. When a few more students trailed in, (all without being noticed by Professor Carrow), the class began.

“Today, we will be putting the theory of the Cruciatus Curse to use. On these students right here,” Professor Carrow said, a sickening smile on his face as he pushed on of the young first years forward. Neville stared at the man in shock. He knew that Ginny had to do it earlier in the year, and she was a year younger than him, but he had never expected to do it on first years. First years.

“How would you like to start, Mr. Longbottom,” Carrow said. “Make sure to have them yell nice and loud. Then we’ll know if you have done it at all.” Neville glared at him, but didn’t stand up or make any move to leave his seat.

“Well?” Professor Carrow asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Neville said plainly and sat firmly in his seat. Carrow looked flabbergasted at him. Well he shouldn’t, since he has taught Ginny, Neville thought dryly.

“What did you say?”

“I think, unless you’re deaf, which I think you’re not, you would’ve heard Neville say no. I think even Snape in Dumbledore’s office—no wait, in his office, would’ve heard it,” Seamus exclaimed, barely hiding the fury in his voice; butting in and rising from his seat. By this Professor Carrow’s attention turned toward Seamus, Neville was no longer on his mind.

“Dumbledore. Is. Dead. Dead, OK? I watched him die, as his old, limp body fell off the tower. I saw it! And I promise you, he will stay that way,” Amycus snarled, glaring at everyone in the room in the eye. Neville then stood up too, joining Seamus.

“That is true, and I’m not going to deny it. But Dumbledore didn’t die in vain. His death will be avenged and you are going to lose,” Neville spat, trembling with anger, coming close to Professor Carrow’s face.

“You think you’re going to win? You have already lost. The Order is done. You lot will be finished soon, and my Lord will rule the world!” Carrow shouted. 

“Really? Well, I think that you should watch out, because Harry Potter is out there, and he will be coming to destroy your filthy _Lord!”_ he shouted sarcastically, voice rising with his anger. “Harry Potter has escaped Gringotts! _Gringotts!_ On a dragon! I think he will do just fine against your _‘Lord’,_ ” Neville said, sneering in the other's face.

There was a sudden, loud swishing noise of a spell being cast. Suddenly, a sharp pain rang out on his cheek and he bit back a cry, his hand reaching up to his face to feel it. To his horror, when he pulled his hand away, it was red with blood.

He gazed in amazement at Carrow, who sneered, wiping his wiping his wand on his robe. It came out red.

“How dare you! Detention in my office at seven, and be on time! Leave my classroom right now!” Carrow shouted, pointing his wand at Neville and casting a Shield Charm in front of him. Panting with rage, Neville walked out of the room with his head held high, (blood still running down his face,) and bag in hand. He didn’t want to enter that disgusting classroom ever again.

Once he was certain he was out of hearing range, he ran towards the Room of Requirement, knowing that he had a few more minutes before his next class to see Luna and Dean. He ran past the wall across from Barnabas the Barmy trice, thinking with his utmost concentration; I need to see Luna and Dean. Suddenly the door appeared and Neville pulled them open, making sure that no one was behind him or watching him, and then silently slipped in.

“NEVILLE!” The moment he walked in, he was tackled by a hug from Luna. He stumbled back with a surprised laugh and hugged her back.

“Hey Luna, Dean,” he said, politely nodding in the direction of the other boy. He nodded back and returned to studying a long sheet of parchment that looked vaguely familiar to him. “I’ve only got a few minutes, so what’ve you got?”

“What about Ginny? Did you ask McGonagall about her?” Luna asked, right before Dean could even speak. Neville looked at her sadly.

“Well, McGonagall said that she wouldn’t be returning to Hogwarts. Then she sent me off,” Neville replied, sticking his hands in his pockets and staring at the ground. Luna looked at him as if he was crazy.

“She’s not coming back? I didn’t even get to see her!” Luna exclaimed. Dean came up to them.

“Do you think McGonagall knows where Ginny is?” Dean asked, spinning a quill between his fingers.  

“I bet she does,” Luna declared, her eyes blazing with a sudden fury. “She just didn’t want to tell Neville, to keep him safe!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Neville asked quietly, his eyes quite not meeting Luna’s.

“Nothing, just that McGonagall has always been ‘trying’ to keep you safe, but all she’s been doing is putting you in the height of danger!” Luna exclaimed, raising her hands above her head. Neville took a step back in shock.

“Professor McGonagall has done nothing to put Neville in danger. She wouldn’t do that,” Dean calmly cut in. Neville was just about to open his mouth and agree, but was interrupted by Luna, who spun on Dean furiously.

“You weren’t even here for most of the year! How would you know?” she shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Dean. The other boy stepped back in shock, but hid it well on his face. He didn’t say anything.

“Professor McGonagall’s been doing her absolute best around here and asking her about where Ginny went isn’t going to help!” Neville exclaimed, getting up and staring Luna down. Luna glared back, eyes blazing with a defiance Neville wasn’t used to. But then, she looked at the ground, not meeting Neville’s eyes anymore.

“You’re right,” she muttered tiredly. “It’s just that, it’s just so—it’s just so unfair! Just when I get out of that place, Ginny has to leave! I didn’t even get to see her!” Luna exclaimed, sitting down in a childish huff and curling up into a tight ball. Dean sat down beside her.

“You’re right. It is unfair. And you know what? It’s never going to be fair. But that’s not what really matters right now. What matters is we need to get out of this alive, and we need to win,” Dean said softly, fiddling his wand. Neville nodded, and a smile crept onto his face.

“And do you know what we can do?” Neville asked, the smile on his face growing wider by the moment. Luna opened her silver eyes and smiled too, and Dean looked between the two of them with confusion.

“Dumbledore’s Army!” Luna exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air with enthusiasm. She looked at Neville, her smile even larger than it had been before. Dean nodded with a realisation, and placed his hand in the middle of their circle, looking at them expectantly. Neville did so, and Luna followed.

“Dumbledore’s Army!” all three of them chanted, and golden sparks flew up into the air, conjured by Dean’s wand. He stood up and made way for the door of the Room of Requirement.

“Where are you going?” Neville asked in a slight panic. Dean smiled reassuringly.

“Well, if we’re to do something about this, Dumbledore’s Army can’t be an army without its soldiers, can it?” Neville and Luna nodded, and together, they prepared themselves for the rise of Dumbledore’s Army, for the third time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are SO sorry for the lateness! What, like, months? Ahhhhh! Many, many, apologies.


	24. Before the Storm

“Filius, I trust you received my message?” Minerva leaned to her right and whispered into Professor Flitwick’s ear. (Rather shocking that she managed this too, for she was quite tall, and he, quite small.) 

The other professor looked back at her, a frown on his face and concern in his eyes. “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about, Minerva. I have not received such a letter,” Flitwick mumbled back.

Minerva looked at him with surprise. “Miss. Weasley didn’t give it to you?” 

Filius looked at her with growing concern. “Are you sure you’re well, Minerva? I don’t think Miss. Weasley has even spoke to me these past days,” he joked.

Minerva tightened her lips with exasperation and took a quick glance to her right, making sure Snape really was not at dinner. As usual, the gloomy, clad in black Headmaster was absent from the meal.  _ Good for him _ .

Minerva sniffed at Flitwick. “I am acutely aware of my health, Filius, though I do thank you for your concern. Are  _ you _ sure you didn’t get my letter?” Minerva prompted once more, pressing for a different answer. 

Filius shook his head. “Positive.” 

Minerva sat back in her seat and pressed a hand to her suddenly-damp forehead, remembering the hot-headed, stubborn redhead she had entrusted this deed to. She remembered the fierce curiosity in her eyes, that all-too-familiar look.

_ It couldn’t be _ . Ginny couldn’t have been able to open the seal — _ she _ charmed it, for Merlin’s sake! 

Had she read Ginny’s abilities wrong? Had she underestimated the youngest Weasley child? 

Or was it something different? Perhaps someone else had gotten it, either from Ginny, or from Filius after he received it. Minerva leaned back on her seat and thought. The former was much more probable, Filius surely would’ve told her if the letter had fallen into another’s hands. Or was he? 

The happenings of Polyjuice was also another option, but considering the Death Eaters’ intelligence, that one was much, much less likely. 

“Minerva?” Filius prodded again, worried by the sudden silence. He cautiously rested a hand on her arm.

She looked down at him and shook herself out of her thoughts. 

“I have to go,” she rushed out, and left the Great Hall through the door on the right side, one normally reserved for emergencies. She ignored Filius’ questioning look and fled the room.

Once she was sure she was alone, Minerva broke into a run—only to be stopped by a cold, firm hand on her back. She froze, grabbing her wand in her pocket, though not taking it out. 

“Professor McGonagall. What a pleasure to find you in the hallways. Why aren’t you in the Great Hall?” A slick, slimy voice drawled from behind her. Minerva spun around, whipping off the hand on her back, and found herself facing Amycus Carrow. A part of her almost wished it would’ve been Snape instead.

She held back a shudder and stood straight, raising an eyebrow and staring the man in the eye with a cold, hard glint. She could’ve sworn she saw his gaze falter, and had to keep a smirk from creeping onto her face. 

“Professor Carrow,” she replied smoothly, keeping the professionalism in her voice, but not concealing all her coldness. She kept a firm grip on her wand from inside her pocket. 

“Would you like to walk to my rooms with me? There is something I would like to discuss with you,” Amycus said suddenly, leaning in close—she could feel his hot breath on her face, and tried to hold her mouth. “In private.” 

Minerva forced a smile to hide how repulsed she was. “Why the complications? We can just speak here. Can we not, Professor Carrow? I’m sure it’s nothing too serious,” she replied breezily, as innocent as possible. 

But alas, she felt him place a hand on her back once more, and steer her towards the direction of the dungeons. Minerva uttered a cry and began to resist, but the hand pressed itself more firmly into her back, forcing her into a still.

“Ah, but I would feel  _ much _ more comfortable in my office,” he purred, his voice silky smooth. Minerva had to bite her tongue from saying anything too bad. She drew in a long breath.

“Of course, Professor,” she replied, trying her utmost best not to show her venom. 

Amycus suddenly had a nasty grin. He kept his hand on her back and lead her down the hall, pulling her into another room, which was clearly not his office. 

He closed the door behind him, and right before he did, Minerva was very tempted to make a run for it.  _ Where’s that Gryffindor in you? You’re the Head of House, for Merlin’s sake!  _ She ran her fingers across the engravings on her wand, and held it tight. 

“Well Professor, I believe there is something about this room you need to tell me about,” Amycus said, gesturing around him. She scanned her surroundings, and could smack herself for not noticing what she had gotten herself into. 

“I know nothing, ‘tis merely a room, is it not, Professor?” she replied, looking around again, desperately looking for a way of escape without exposing one of the most well guarded secrets in Hogwarts history. 

Suddenly, Amycus pushed her up against the wall and glared at her. Minerva had to turn her head to keep the scent of onions and rotten breath away from her. 

“I know nothing!” she exclaimed, and threw him across the room. Then, dusting herself off, she walked right up to him, and pointed her wand at his throat. 

“Next time,  _ Professor _ , it would be best to hold a  _ professional _ stance to a colleague,” she said, her voice calm and steady. She then walked out the door, locking it behind her as she summoned Amycus’ wand from his pocket. 

-+-+-+-

“GET THEM!” the voice of Amycus Carrow shrieked, running like the wind (a rather uncoordinated wind, that is) after two hurrying figures, cloaked in black. Their heads were bent low, wands held out before them. However, they seemed to be running straight into a dead end. 

Neville could hear the pounding footsteps of Amycus behind him; they seemed to be getting closer, as he bent his head lower, putting on another burst of speed, and sprinted his way towards the Room of Requirement. He had never needed it as much as he had now, and even before he and Luna had passed the wall once, a door simmered up beside them, and Neville, letting out a hysterical noise of relief, made a sharp right turn and disappeared. 

Amycus would wonder where he had gone. Neville couldn’t keep from smirking, despite his exhaustion; he could almost hear the anguished screaming of the professor, disappointed he couldn’t torture another student. 

Once he reached the safe haven of the room, he ripped off the black cloak and collapsed on the floor, gasping for air. Luna appeared shortly, flopping down beside him. 

“Hey, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” she asked brightly, between gasps, lying beside Neville. 

“No. No, it wasn’t that bad,” he replied with a smile, breath short and cheeks rosy. 

“How’d it go?” A voice floated out from a darkened corner. Dean appeared from his seat there and sat down, again, next to them this time. 

Neville spoke, breath slowly coming back now. “Not bad. We got the ink on the walls, and the papers all over the place. Dumbledore’s Army is back for good,” he said, a quick summary that didn’t give the past few moments justice. 

“Carrow #1 found us though, but was too slow for us,” Luna added with a grin, sitting up now, and playing with her wand. 

“How come? Did the charm wear off?” 

Luna and Neville looked at each other and shrugged. 

“I’m actually not sure; it wasn’t supposed to anyways. Maybe there’s something wrong with my wand?” Neville offered dubiously. Dean nodded, and looked into the distance, clearly lost in thought. 

“Did anyone touch your wand before this?” he questioned after a while, holding out an open palm. 

“No, I don’t think so. My wand is on me at all times, and there’s even a charm to keep it in my pocket,” Neville replied as he handed Dean the wand. He turned it a few times in his hands, scrutinising it. 

“I think someone might’ve tinkered with it, maybe placed some type of jinx or something,” Dean explained, as he gave the wand back to Neville. 

Luna’s eyebrows shot up, then drew into a furrow. “Are you sure?” 

“I don’t know for sure, but it sure feels like it; the magic is off, somehow,” Dean said, chewing on his lip. “You should give it to McGonagall or Flitwick to check it. You don’t want to have a malfunctioning wand at this time.” 

Neville nodded, and placed the wand back into his pocket. 

“Hey, you have that detention tomorrow, don’t you?” Luna piped up. 

Neville looked at her with a bit of surprise—he hadn’t told anyone about that. “How did you know?” 

Luna gave a small, slightly embarrassed smile, a faint blush creeping to her cheeks. “I had decided to watch over your lessons, hoping that you wouldn’t be too hot-headed with the professors. Seems I was too late,” Luna replied, with a small, sheepish laugh. Neville smiled at her. 

“Well, you’re right. But in my defense, I couldn’t stand Carrow was saying,” Neville countered. 

“I know, Neville, but you’re really going to have to watch that temper of yours; it’s going to cause even more trouble,” Dean joined in. 

Neville looked at the ground, feeling slightly guilty. “I know,” he muttered.

“But anyways,” Dean said, “you should probably go and get McGonagall to check that wand.” 

“Right _ now?”  _ Neville exclaimed. “It’s way too late, I bet she’s asleep! I’ll do it tomorrow,” he said, brushing it off. 

Dean tightened his lips, and looked at him seriously. “Best get it checked now; what if something happens? Even if it is 11:30. You gotta be careful these days.” 

Luna placed a hand on his arm soothingly. 

“It’s fine. I doubt much will happen before 9:00 tomorrow,” Luna said, her voice soft. “And we should probably go to bed now, too.” 

Neville nodded. “Luna’s right; I’ll leave it for tonight and check it tomorrow.” 

Dean resigned with a shrug. 

“Goodnight, then.” 

The three of them headed for one of the hammocks by the wall. Neville climbed into his, wrapping the warm blanket around him. Then, transfiguring his clothes into pajamas, his eyes closed and he felt himself drifting into a deep sleep. 

-+-+-+-

Minerva walked as calmly as she could, out of the castle and into the forest. She easily found the small clearing that she normally went to, and with a small “pop”, she Disapparated off the grounds of Hogwarts. 

A millisecond before she felt the grab and pull at her body, she caught a glimpse of a slight shadow, right in the corner of her eye.  _ I’m probably seeing things; it’s been a long day,  _ she thought, and brushed it off without another thought.

When she opened her eyes again, she had landed in a vast meadow clearing and a tall, round, blue forcefield stood before her. She could not see anything inside it, but she knew that she had arrived at the Burrow. Stepping through the barrier, feeling the slight ripple of air pass through her body, she waved off her invisibility charm and headed to knock thrice on the door. 

Through the small mailbox flap, (one she was sure Arthur had insisted on installing there) two bright, brown eyes looked back at her, and, as Minerva raised a hand in greeting, they widened in surprise. The door immediately flung open and she was engulfed by a hug by Molly Weasley. 

Minerva flinched ever so; she always did, she could never help it. There was just such a… personal thing about hugging, and Minerva was always just a tad uncomfortable with it.

As Minerva tensed, she saw Molly’s shoulders relax.  

“Hello Molly. Sorry to intrude without notice, but I urgently need to speak with your daughter,” Minerva explained. Molly nodded, gave a bright smile, and Minerva could almost see the small, little red-haired girl standing before her desk, beaming proudly after a completed transfiguration. 

“Ginny, dear! There’s someone here for you!” Molly shouted into the house, her voice carrying up the stairs. “Come in, dear,” she then ushered to Minerva.

Minerva stepped past the door and shrugged off her cloak. She placed it on the couch, and followed Molly to the dinner table. 

“Cup of tea?” 

Minerva shook her head. 

“It’s fine, Molly. I won’t be long,” she replied, and tapped her fingers on the old, garnished table. 

“What do you want to speak to Ginny with?” Molly asked quietly, sitting down across from her, eyes slightly narrowed. 

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Minerva replied cautiously, not completely sure she should tell Molly about the letter. Suddenly, she heard loud, thumping footsteps racing down the stairs. Right after, Ginny rushed into the room, her hair a complete disaster, wand sticking out of her back pocket. 

“What is it Mu—” she paused mid-sentence, and her eyes widened. “Er, hello, Professor McGonagall,” she stammered, fiddling her fingers. She raised her hands to her head, and tried unsuccessfully to pat down her hair. “What are you doing here?” 

“Professor McGonagall has something to speak to you about,” Molly said, getting up and pointing her wand at a pile of carrots. Minerva nodded. 

“Yes, perhaps we could go into your room? I would like to discuss this with you in private,” Minerva said crisply, rising from her seat and gesturing for Ginny to lead the way. 

“Oh, of course!” she replied quickly, and, nearly breaking into a run, gone up the stairs and turned into a small room that was just barely larger than Minerva’s washroom. Minerva stepped in and shut the door, casting a silencing charm. Ginny took a seat on her bed and indicated for Minerva to sit at her desk. She gingerly sat down, not really sure if the weak looking chair could support her weight. 

“Miss. Weasley. I’m sure you’re wondering why I have come,” she started off, and Ginny nodded her head. 

“Yes, Professor. Is there anything wrong at Hogwarts?” 

“No, everything is… about the same as when you’d left,” Minerva said, lying straight through her teeth. Hogwarts was not doing well, and Ginny leaving had not helped at all. She felt a pang of remorse, but it dissipated after seeing the girl give a sigh of relief. 

“I would also like to inform you that Miss. Lovegood and Mr. Thomas are back at the castle, though not attending their classes,” Minerva added, and she could see the happiness in the girl’s eyes. 

“Really?” 

“Would I lie to you, Miss. Weasley?” Minerva asked, raising an eyebrow. She barely kept herself from a hysterical laugh.

“No, Professor,” Ginny said solemnly, and Minerva nodded, forcing herself to crush her guilt.

“Now, I am wondering where the letter went, the one that I had asked, if I remember correctly, for you to give to Professor Flitwick. I was told by him that the letter had not reached his hands, and I am wondering if you know where it is,” Minerva said, tone darkening, and Ginny distinctively paled. She looked down and didn’t meet her eyes. 

Minerva suppressed a smile, despite the serious circumstances. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Miss. Weasley?” 

Ginny mumbled into her collar. Minerva frowned, not quite catching what her student had said. 

“I would be able to hear you better if you weren’t speaking into your shirt,” Minerva said, her voice a little softer, a bit more comforting. 

“Neville and I opened it,” Ginny said with a little more clarity, though still not very loud. 

Minerva felt her stomach drop. Michy  

The first moment was of absolute shock, her eyes wide, her heart pounding. 

But then, she looked at the bold Gryffindor, the one who had caused so much trouble, head down beside her, and the surprise turned to a weary resignation. 

_ Of course _ that would happen. It was Ginny Weasley; what did she expect? For her to just pass on a mystery letter with nothing more than a glance at the envelope?

“Oh, I’m sorry, Professor!” Ginny burst out, almost spitting the words. “I couldn’t… it was just—” she cut off and looked down at her feet once again.

“Just what, Miss. Weasley?” 

“I suppose curiosity killed the cat,” Ginny replied, a slight smile glittering on her face. Minerva glared at the girl. Didn’t she get enough of that around Albus? 

“Then I suppose you read what was in the letter, and decided to do something about it?” Minerva asked, rather innocently, though she felt herself slightly shake—Ginny wasn’t the type just to sit down when there was something to be done. Ginny looked down once more, and her voice diminished quite a bit. 

“Yes. I did. But I didn’t have the chance to get to it,” she replied, her voice steady. Minerva felt herself release a sigh of relief—nothing foolish happened. But, how  _ did _ Ginny get into the envelope?

“May I ask how you opened the letter?” she questioned, eyeing Ginny with curiosity. Suddenly, the girl piped up and her eyes glowed with pride. 

“Actually, Professor, it wasn’t me. It was Neville,” she proudly said. Minerva cocked her head, displaying an expression saying, go on. “I think it’d be best if you ask him.” 

“Oh, really? Honestly Miss. Weasley, when I told you to not open it, I meant it!” Minerva exclaimed, the anger flaring up inside her. That letter was _ private _ , for Merlin’s sake! Ginny bowed down her head once more, and was utterly fascinated by the floor. 

“Sorry, Professor,” she mumbled. Minerva then acted against her mind, and reached out to lift up the girl’s chin. 

“Miss. Weasley, it wasn’t right, what you did, but do you promise me that you haven’t done anything absurdly reckless upon the letter? You do know that you can come to me,” she finished, and dropped her hand. Ginny looked up at her and gave her a small smile. Minerva returned it. 

“Yes. Nothing reckless happened. Nothing at all.” 

-+-+-+-

“Well, it looks like the _ great  _ Neville Longbottom has been caught,” Amycus sneered, wrenching Neville by the collar. Neville kept a passive face, though he could feel a smile peek through. 

“It looks it he has,” Neville replied quietly, letting the smile shine through now, allowing Amycus to throw him like a rag doll onto the floor. He didn’t even mind. “Nothing much left for me to do, anyways. You’re not going to win. You know that, right?” 

Amycus scoffed and puffed out his chest, sneering even more. He looked rather like an oversized rooster, Neville thought, that didn’t match the red and gold decor. 

“You must be delusional. The Lord has already won, don’t you know? He’s already won, and soon, Lord Voldemort will be everyone’s lord!” he exclaimed, raising his hand to the air, like he was holding up an imaginary object. Neville had to keep himself from bursting out in laughter from the scene before him: Amycus looked utterly and absolutely ridiculous. 

But then, suddenly, he pulled a small envelope from his pocket. He dropped it on the desk, making an oddly quiet, nearly silent thump.  _ Must be heavy, whatever it is.  _

“What’s that?” Neville asked, his voice calm and almost mocking, sounding like a young child questioning how babies were made. 

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out. But I bet one of your professors would find it amusing,” Amycus replied, his face twisting into a wicked grin. 

“Alright then,” Neville said nonchalantly, but his eyes darted over to where the letter had landed, trying to see what it was, and what had made it so heavy, for a bundle of  _ parchment. _ Something was bulging out from it. He couldn’t quite make out what.

Suddenly, the Death Eater’s eyes looked straight at Neville, and he pulled his wand out of seemingly nowhere, and pointed it at him. 

“There’s some news for you too, Longbottom, and I’m afraid it might not be the most pleasant. But let’s finish this game first,” he said, his voice sickeningly sweet and a disgusting smile etched on his face. 

“Crucio!” he yelled, and Neville felt himself being lifted off the ground, and an excruciating pain flew through his body, and though this curse was not new, it was very much just as painful as before. He felt as though thousands of minuscule daggers were cutting into him, ripping him apart bit by bit, and each blade tripling in pain. He couldn’t help but let a cry escape his mouth, and although he didn’t hear it, he definitely heard the cackle of laughter from Carrow. He gritted his teeth together; he couldn't let Amycus have the satisfaction of knowing he hurt him. Merlin knows how he did it, but he stayed silent after that one shriek. 

Finally, after what had seemed ages, the pain suddenly stopped, and he collapsed to ground, panting. 

“Well, wasn’t that fun,” Amycus cackled, speaking so close into Neville face that he could feel his breath on his cheek. Neville wanted to slap that face. Still panting, he managed to push himself to a sitting position. 

“Very fun,” Neville gasped back, clutching his side where the pain seemed to linger. 

“I promised you news after the fun, didn’t I?” Carrow said, taunting him. “Yes, I did. Well, Longbottom, it seems that your grandmother is dead.” 

And the weirdly mesmerising patterns of the ceiling were the last he saw before the world went black. 

-+-+-+-

Minerva walked briskly through the hallways, thoroughly annoyed, yet with a very slight sense of admiration for Ginny Weasley. Pushing open her office door, a strangled gasp escaped her mouth. 

Neville Longbottom was collapsed on the ground, his mouth hanging slightly open, blood seeping into his tattered clothes. Minerva dropped to the floor beside him, instinct taking over; she waved her wand and levitated him onto the couch. A trickle of blood reached her hand, and she wiped it on her sleeve hurriedly, grabbing a handkerchief out of her pocket, pressing it against the long, slim cut on the side of Neville’s cheek. 

“Dear Merlin, Longbottom, what happened?” she muttered. Still keeping her hand on the gash, she got up and snatched a small bottle of dittany off her desk, then dripping a drop or two onto the wound. Almost instantly, it closed up and the only blood left was on her sleeve. Minerva then reached for a red tartan blanket and draped it over the boy. He gave a small sigh of comfort, and so did Minerva. 

She had no idea how he had gotten there, or why. But, she’d let him sleep for now. Answers would come in the morning. With a quiet whisper, she double locked the door to her office, making sure no one could come in, or leave. 

Just as she was about to get ready for bed, a envelope on her desk caught her sight.  _ How peculiar _ , she thought, as she reached down and unsealed the bright  _ orange _ wax. The whole thing looked rather ridiculous really, from the crazy bright colours closing, to the oddly eye-catching, very distinctive brown of the parchment itself. 

Then, her eyes narrowed as she read the strangely familiar handwriting, and as she continued, she was barely keeping herself from ripping the paper and burning it immediately. 

_ Dear Professor McGonagall,  _

_ It’s such a shame for your student, Neville Longbottom, to hear the news of the death of his grandmother, Augusta Longbottom. I decided to break the news to him in the gentlest and kindest tone possible, as I was the first to know. The poor boy fainted from shock, and I’d decided it would be best for you to deal with it. Please give my most sincere condolences.  _

_ Much love and regret, _

_ Amycus Carrow.  _

Minerva clutched the paper in her hands, crumpling it. She looked back to the envelope, and realised there was something else. 

She reached inside, and pulled out a large, long knife. Upon its handle was engraved, _ “May the best man win.”  _

Though the situation was beyond serious, Minerva couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh out.  _ Couldn’t they be more original?  _ Turning the knife thrice in her hand, and tracing her finger across the blade, she noticed that there was a very slight bloodstain on it.

Minerva looked from the dark crimson stain, over to a sleeping Neville, and her fingers tightened on the handle. She was going to kill that man, she was sure of it. The rage inside her grew in size, more kindle for her already-present rage. Minerva’s self restraint was only going to hold so long. 

She placed a protective charm around it and locked it into a drawer inside her desk, charming it to sound her if it was ever opened. Then, because despite the circumstances, she still somehow had an enormous pile of papers to mark, she grabbed her quill and sat down at her desk.

But the candle light slowly made her eyes droop, and the words in front of her became a hazy blur, and the world began to close. 

-+-+-+-

“Professor!” 

The fireplace burned up to a shade of iridescent green, and out stepped a young man of around thirty. He had red hair and dazzling blue eyes, clearly a Weasley. 

Minerva’s head snapped up to the smell of ash and smoke, only to see Bill Weasley greeting her. She immediately got up and pulled out her wand. 

“What happened?” she exclaimed, thinking of the worst. Had someone died? Has Harry been caught? 

Bill then suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her vigorously, his face beaming with a bright grin, and his eyes almost brimming with tears. 

“Potter’s made it! He’s made it out of Gringotts! He’s alive!”

She slapped a hand over her mouth and had to keep her face from bursting into a smile. The joy rushed through all her body, and she wanted to hug the life out of the young man in front of her. She too, felt her eyes burning up. 

“Potter’s alive!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God. Months without updating... oops.   
> On the bright side, however; we've finally gotten past our writer's block! The next chapter is already in progress, and it will (hopefully) not take as long as this one did.  
> This chapter is a tad confusing, with all the perspectives and page breaks, but don't worry; it'll sort out eventually.


	25. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville is comforted, Logan gets an offer, both Elizabeth and Ginny are too young.

Neville's eyes cacked open to rays of bright, joyful sunbeams coming in through a window to his left. He blinked groggily as he took in his surroundings: red and gold wallpaper, painted Gryffindor emblems, and a chandelier hanging high above his head, the crystals sparkling and burning his eyes.

He frowned, then sprang up off the… what, couch? he was on, looked around some more, and gave a sigh of relief. He sank back down onto the loveseat, now knowing that he was perfectly safe and cozy in his Head of House's office—

Why was he in McGonagall's office?

Shit, he thought, she must've found me and saw what happened. Carrow must've taken him here, instead of his own office.

Then, a soft sigh came from in front of him. Neville jerked his head towards the noise, and saw that McGonagall had fallen asleep at her desk, while grading essays, it seemed like. He pondered a bit, then got up and pulled out his wand, levitating his professor onto the couch, where he originally slept. She gave no sign of waking up, or moving at all, and with what's been going on these day, Neville just had to check for a pulse. He gingerly placed two fingers on her wrist.

_THUMP, THUMP._

A pulse was certainly there. Relieved, he draped a tartan blanket over her and then tiptoed towards the door, fulling planning on leaving, until an envelope, very much like the one he had spotted with Amycus, caught his eye. His eyes narrowed, and changed his directive, heading towards the desk.

As he skimmed it, he realised with horror that, despite his desperate grasp to the belief that it wasn't true, the contents of the letter corresponded with to the taunts of Amycus Carrow. His vision began to blur, and he begged that it was all a dream. His grandmother couldn't have been dead, she just can't be! He felt himself slide onto the floor, leaning against the desk as the tears took over.

"Neville?" a voice asked, and he twirled around, only to see Professor McGonagall standing before him—her hair a mess, and glasses crooked on her face, so unlike the usual Professor he knew that he almost didn't recognise her. He quickly stood up and dusted himself off, furiously flinging away his tears, trying to make the situation seem like nothing.

"Sorry, Professor, I didn't mean to—" he began hurriedly, but Professor McGonagall cut him off.

"Your grandmother isn't dead, Neville," she said softly, coming closer to him, her eyes soft and full of concern. He looked up at her, desperate clinging hope battling with dark pessimism.

"Sorry to discredit you Professor, but how do you know?" he stuttered, running a hand through his hair. The tears had not stopped, but had only come quicker with another surge of despair.

McGonagall walked up to him and sat him down.

"I know because your grandmother is at my house, in Hogsmeade," McGonagall said, softly. "I spoke with her just last night, after the letter came to me."

His hopeful side won over. Neville looked up at her, tears shining in his eyes.

"Really?"

She nodded and smiled at him.

"Really."

Then the tears started to come again, but this time, it was of relief, and joy.

* * *

Thump. Thump.

Logan's footsteps echoed in his ears as he paced back and forth outside of Headmaster Snape's office, the griffin gargoyle standing proudly. He had arranged a requested meeting with the Headmaster to ask for time to leave for his parents' funeral. His parents' funeral. No tears came this time at the thought; his mind was merely numb. He was numb. It was as though he was simply existing, with no purpose or need. He felt nothing anymore, nothing to any point.

Suddenly, the gargoyle spun with the stairs coming down. Logan let out a breath, expecting the Headmaster.

Rabastan Lestrange appeared, clad in all-too-familiar robes and a wicked smile. Logan's eyes widened, and he pulled out his wand.

"Well, well, well. Isn't it Logan Eduria?"

Logan didn't bother to correct him (oh, so he wasn't important enough for Rabastan to remember his bloody surname? _Fine.)_ Instead he ignored him, clenched his jaw, and pushed past Rabastan, heading towards the stairs.

He was halfway up when he felt a slick, wet sensation on his arm, along with a twinge of pain that slowly spread throughout his entire arm. He felt it soak through his robes. A shiver went up his spine as he turned and saw Rabastan round the corner and disappear out of sight.

He lifted up his sleeve, and to his horror (though not to surprise), a long gash was slashed on his arm, and the blood was dripping down onto his hand, staining it red. The metal stench reached his nose, and he curled back, trying to get away from his own body. With his wand, he quickly conjured a wet cloth, and with a slight wince at the sting, cleaned out the wound and wound the cloth around it. That will have to do for now, he thought. Perhaps he could ask Professor Snape to heal it.

_Wait._

Logan stared at the wet cloth that was slowly being soaked through, and laughed, despite the circumstances. What was his mind doing?

He grabbed his wand again, and muttered a healing charm.

After that short, albeit impractical, ordeal, he stood in front of the door again and knocked thrice.

"Come in," said a voice, and Logan placed his hand on the doorknob.

Suddenly, he felt a tugging sensation at his navel, and the tall, redwood door was the last thing he saw.

* * *

"Elizabeth!" Neville heard himself hiss. "What are you doing here?"

The young, blonde girl spun around, wand in hand, and glared. She stood up from her crouched position, haughtily, and stared him in the eye with an attempted scowl. Like a little kitten getting mad at you, Neville thought, first with amusement, then with guilt because of it.

"I'm here to join you," she said plainly. "Whether you want me to or not. I'm going to do it."

"Elizabeth," Neville said wearily, "I know you want to fight and all, I felt that, but you're just too young! You're eleven!" Neville exclaimed. He quickly silenced himself, however, looking around nervously. He made a noise of frustration, and soon he felt himself dragging the young girl by the arm into the Room of Requirement.

"We can talk here better," he said, once inside.

Previous traces of Elizabeth's anger was now replaced with amazement. "Where am I?" she asked, her voice filled with awe, as her eyes widened and tried to take in the magic of a singular room.

"The Room of Requirement," he replied with a smile. She looked quizzically at him, her eyebrow raised, and Neville couldn't help but think of McGonagall. A young, pigtailed McGonagall, that is.

"I'm going to join. I'm going to help," Elizabeth repeated matter-of-factly, as if a turndown was impossible.

"Elizabeth, you're too young!" he repeated with emphasis.

"And you're not?" she retorted, crossing her arms and smirking. Neville gave an exasperated sigh,

"I'm seventeen. I'm allowed to make whatever stupid decisions I want to make, because I'm of age. I can risk my life because it's my choice, because I'm old enough. Elizabeth, just think of the heart attack McGonagall would have if she knew," Neville said, trying to argue with the girl.

"Then McGonagall doesn't need to know."

"She'll find out. I'm sure of it. Elizabeth, you're just too young! This is your first year at Hogwarts! You are eleven! Eleven!" he said again, desperate to reason with her.

Elizabeth looked like she was restraining herself from doing something rash. "Why am I too young?" she debated hotly. "I have to fight! I have to do something! I can't just stand by and watch, as Hogwarts burns down!" Her voice raised into a shout, her fists curling up.

"I know how you feel. But you don't understand!" Neville reasoned. "People die! People get hurt! Are you ready for that?" he questioned harshly.

"I! I—" Elizabeth faltered. All of a sudden, all her energy seemed to fade away.

She tightened her lips and looked to her feet.

"I don't know," she finally said, quietly. "I don't know if I'm ready. I don't know if I can face death and pain and horror. But I want to be. I want to fight for Hogwarts. I _need_ to fight for Hogwarts. So, please, Neville—" Elizabeth looked back up, bright blue watery eyes looking straight into Neville's. "Let me."

For a moment, all that could be heard was Elizabeth's quick, rapid breathing. Then, Neville shook his head and sighed.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he said under his breath, and Elizabeth drew in a sharp bated breath. "Ginny's going to have my head."

Neville held out a hand and gave her a rueful smile. "Welcome to Dumbledore's Army."

Elizabeth's face lit up in brilliant joy, but it quickly faded into determination. She shook his hand firmly.

"Alright. What's first?" Neville, against his will, gave a small grin. He was starting to like this girl.

* * *

"About time," a deep, harsh voice murmured from his right.

Logan stirred and groaned. He shut his eyes tightly, despite the lack of light, and it took a moment for him to process what the hell had happened. His brow furrowed in concentration as his mind rewound its memory.

Suddenly he sat bolt upright, eyes wide and alert, staring with confusion, defiance, and fear at the man before him.

Silvery, platinum hair tumbled down to the man's shoulders, and his dreary grey eyes peered at Logan impassively. He looked tired and old, Logan concluded—the bags underneath seemed to go on for ages, and the silver hair didn't seem to help. Neither did the staff he held in his left hand, even though there was no appearance of him leaning on it.

His face was familiar, almost like deja-vu. Something about the defiant look in his eyes, the sharp yet muddled features—it took a moment for him to register his name.

"Lucius Malfoy," Logan said, cautious but polite, purposely addressing him by his first name instead of higher terms. If they were going to play this game, they were going to play it on even footing. They were going to play fair, no matter how reluctant the latter would be on that.

"Good evening," the man replied in the same air.

"You don't appear to be Professor Snape," said Logan with a faint smile, trying to edge the man towards honesty—using humor to "break the tension", as they say.

"No," the man said mildly. Hmm, Logan thought. Perhaps humor doesn't work with _this_ kind of people.

Logan frowned. He tried to think of the best way to move the conversation further.

"I heard about your parents, Logan Erudia," another voice suddenly spoke up. This time, it came from the left. He squinted towards the source, but the face was much too shrouded in darkness for him to make anything out. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

Logan was surprised to hear emotion in the voice, though he concealed it well. Was that remorse he heard? Or was it an act?

"Rabastan Lestrange is a despicable creature," the stranger went on, coming closer to Logan now, and he could just slightly make out a silver mask in the harsh lighting, "the world would be a better place without him."

Logan smiled faintly. They had played their piece, it was time for his. "I assume that is relevant as to why I'm here?"

Malfoy clasped his hands in front of him and looked at Logan intensely. Logan matched him with a look just as strong. There would be no backing down, all or nothing. He was walking straight into this.

"We could do it together," he insisted. "Join us, Logan, and we'll protect you. You'll never need fear for yourself anymore. Join us, and we can destroy Rabastan once and for all."

The attempt to hide his shock was futile, for he thought he saw Lucius frown. However, his thoughts ran on high, as the pieces of glass gave a little "clink" and came together. The Death Eaters. Followers of Voldemort.

He steadied himself and, mind spinning a plan, took a little bow.

"It is an honour. The greatest of honors," he said, laying it on thick, though Lucius didn't seem to notice, for he was grinning with glee.

"This one is smart. I chose well, as I said I would," Lucius boasted, turning slightly to face the two men behind him.

"I never said you wouldn't," grumbled one of them, his voice laced and spun with bitterness and envy.

Lucius spun back around and faced Logan with a bedazzling smile, however fake it was.

"An agreement, I hear?"

"I'm honored. Very, very honored, and very blessed with this," Logan repeated, with just as much confidence as before, perhaps even more, buying time.

"Is that an agreement? A yes?" he asked again, this time with more force, and his voice continuously raised with each word.

Logan didn't reply.

"You would be able to defeat him. Rabastan. Vengeance for your parents," Lucius pressed, his voice getting quieter, but Logan had the impression that it wasn't exactly out of genuine feeling. More like… an effect he was going for. "We'll defeat Rabastan, together. No one will ever dare to hurt you again. I promise."

" _Rabastan,"_ Logan growled quietly, clenching his jaw and curling his hands into fists. He didn't need to pretend there.

"Yes," murmured Lucius. "Join us, Logan."

Logan thought about bowing and agreeing profusely, but that thought was quickly dismissed. _Careful,_ he warned himself. _Don't lay it on_ too _thick now. Lucius isn't like the Carrows._

"I…" Logan frowned, and a faraway look appeared in his eyes. "I will consider your offer," he eventually said, after a long pause. "It sounds very, very important, and I would like to make sure that I am up to it, that I wouldn't disappoint anyone."

Lucius had a very small smirk on his face, but Logan pretended not to see.

"Very well," he said with a sigh. "We shall meet again very soon. You are an intelligent young man. It wouldn't do well for you to give up an opportunity like this one."

Logan nodded solemnly, taking care to keep the indecisive look in his eyes, and raised a hand in farewell. He then raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.

"Ah, yes," Lucius said, and gestured towards a door by the side. "Portkey. Farewell, Logan Erudia."

Logan headed towards the door and grasped the doorknob. His last thought before his mind faded into a whirl was that, at least, Lucius Malfoy said his name correctly.

* * *

Hushed whispering from beneath the stairs drew Ginny from her attempt to sleep. It was ironic, really—there were no homework, no assignments, no projects to be done, and yet, Ginny found her sleeping habits even more intermittent than her days at Hogwarts.

She had been trying, trying so hard. Potterwatch, letters, newspapers—everything. All night, searching for news of Dumbledore's Army, Hogwarts, and most of all—Harry. But there was near to nothing.

Ginny groaned in despair and buried her head into her pillow.

The voices continued. It was most likely her father returning home. She snuggled further into her duvet, and closed her eyes, trying once again to fall asleep.

But a second after, the murmurs grew into a incredulous shout, and then dwindled down, suddenly, quieter, as if frightened of awakening somebody.

This was normal, of course—her parents wouldn't be yelling at this time of night (or rather, day). But there was just something, a little nagging voice in her head. There was something off with their tone. Something off about everything, really. But was it just her overthinking it? Everything was off these days, they were in the middle of a bloody war, for Merlin's sake!

But Ginny had grown accustomed to listening to that instinctual voice, as it had served her well in the past, and all her senses were buzzing. So she made up her mind, squashed the little bud of guilt (for the greater good, she convinced herself), and got up.

Moving very, very slowly, Ginny crept out of her room, making sure to avoid that _one_ creaking floorboard. She moved just far enough, so that the blend of incomprehensible words slowly arranged themselves into a string of knowledge.

With bated breath, Ginny pressed her ear against the wall and the murmurs formed themselves into words.

"We need to tell her," her father's voice said, persisting. The tone of his voice gave away the fact that he had persisted for quite a while now. From what, she didn't know, and it was already driving her crazy. Curiousity did really kill the cat. She strained her ears, the tension almost unbearable.

"We mustn't," her mother said firmly, almost coldly.

Pressing a hand to her mouth, Ginny took a step closer to the voices.

"Molly," her father said with a tint of exasperation, "she gets more worried every day. You see the bags under her eyes. You hear her tuning the radios all day, every day. This isn't helping. It's doing the opposite. We've got to do something. Anything," he added, out of pure desperation.

"No, no, we can't," her mother rushed out desperately, "that's exactly why we can't. We know our Ginny. Headstrong and reckless. She'd return to Hogwarts in a heartbeat. You _know_ that."

"I'd rather have her alive and tired than—" her mother's voice quivered. "I'd rather have her tired and exhausted and sick, than dead! Arthur, don't you see? She's too young to be fighting in a war! She's too young!"

"The Order's already lost so much, and we don't need another young death adding to the numbers! Arthur, there was a reason we didn't join the Order the first time round—it was too dangerous!" Her voice turned shrill. "It's still too dangerous!"

Her mother sounded on the verge of tears, her tone becoming more and more fraught by the second.

"I do, my dear, but it's almost becoming cruel. We've been keeping this from her for, what, a week? Harry's practically her boyfriend, for Merlin's sake!"

And that was all it took.

Ginny, headstrong, reckless Ginny, barrelled down the stairs, words already spilling out of her mouth, tears of both accusation and hope, desperate hope, stringing her eyes.

" _What,"_ she hissed, glaring at the couple, wide eyed and terrified.

"Oh, Ginny, _Ginny,"_ her mother cried out, covering her face with her hands. Her father wrung his hands and began to shuffle on his feet.

" _What_ — _happened_ — _to_ — _Harry?"_ Ginny spat, eyes blazing.

"Harry…" her father forced out the word, and the rest tumbled down. "Harry Potter was spotted in Hogsmeade."

Ginny let out a cry of anger and joy. Then the anger overpowered and spilled out.

" _One week. One goddamn week,"_ she said, tears springing into her eyes. "Why?"

"You'll go back!" her mother suddenly burst, her voice borderline hysterical. "I knew it, you're going back aren't you, back to Hogwarts and back to the danger, oh, Ginny, you mustn't go back, you'll get hurt out there—"

"And _what?!"_ Ginny yelled, flinging herself towards her mother. "I'm supposed to stay here, in our peaceful little cottage surrounded by charms, while Harry and Neville and Logan and Elizabeth and everyone else fights? You think I should do that? You think I'm _going_ to do that?" Ginny didn't bother hearing her mother's answer, and continued to shout.

"There are already people being killed! This isn't helping! I'm supposed to fight for Dumbledore, I'm supposed to lead his army, _I'm supposed to._ You're not protecting me, you're killing others!"

"I know you're trying to protect me, but Mum, I'm not a kid anymore. And you shouldn't pretend that I am. Me, along with everyone else, has been thrust into this war, whether we'd like it or not. I'm not a child anymore. I've seen things. Horrible things, things I can't erase from my mind," she explained, her voice gentle, yet filled with passion.

"Mum, I grew up. I grew up a while ago," Ginny said, a little sad, and a little heartbroken, seeing the anguish and tears in her mother's eyes.

Her mother almost wailed. "Oh, _Ginny."_

Ginny almost stopped from the pure pain she saw and heard from her mother, but the thought of Harry made her forge on.

"It's not the same. I've just got to go back, I can't stand it, hiding away while the rest of you fight, what if you saw dad here getting hurt, wouldn't you save him? Wouldn't you give up your life?" she exclaimed, her tone quivering a little at the end, not wanting to imagine what would—no, what _could—_ happen.

"I would Ginny, but Ginny—you are sixteen! Underage! This isn't your fight!"

"You're right, I am sixteen. But you're also wrong. It is my fight. It's my generation's fight. It's Harry's fight. And I've got to help him. Don't you get it? You can't expect to keep me all cozied up in your house when people are dying out there. Please!"

"You are _underage!"_ her mother shrieked. "Ginny, you are sixteen! _Sixteen!_ I can't let you go, I just can't!"

"Please mum! Please, just let me! Let me go! Let me fight!"

"Ginny, you are underage! You are young! Leave the fighting for the adults, we don't have much left! But you do! You have life left!" Molly exclaimed in desperation, as a last act to get Ginny to stay.

"Mum, I have to fight! Don't you get it? I have to!"

"I suppose I leave you with no choice then," her mother replied, her tone cold. She raised her wand and muttered a charm.

Ginny may have been the stronger debater, but this time her mother had the element of surprise on her side. Ginny was too shocked to move, she simply watched in horror as her wand floated down the stairs and into her mum's grasp.

She was grabbed by the hand and dragged up the stairs. Her bedroom door slammed in her face. The lock gave a tiny little tick.

Ginny's mouth fell open. Then her face darkened. With a snarl of frustration, she pounded a hand on the wood.

" _Let me out!"_

The response was brief, clipped, and cold.

"No."

A silence. Ginny slid down the door and leaned against the cool surface.

"Mum?" she said in a choked voice. " _Please."_

"I'm sorry, Ginny," her mother whispered. "I need to protect you."

Her ear pressed against the door, Ginny shut her eyes, tears streaming, as her mother's heavy, grieved footsteps echoed away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Right. So, we've been updating on ff.net (not very consistently might I add but updating nevertheless), but not on here, and as of today the last chapter is finished, so here are the three chapters we've written over the course of like a year. Yeah, we suck at keeping a steady schedule.


	26. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny finds a new use for hairpins, Rabastan has a meeting with the Carrows and restrains himself from strangling both of them.  
> The battle begins. Elizabeth is saved and Logan saves someone else.

Slamming her face into the pillow, Ginny tried to calm her choked breaths. She turned over onto her back, furiously wiping away her tears, and stared at the ceiling, focusing on her breathing, until she was relatively calmed down.

She heard, once again, hushed whispers coming from below, but this time, she didn't move.

How could her own mother do this to her?

 _Protecting me,_ Ginny thought sardonically, and felt frustration rise up once more.

How could she make her stay here, when everyone else was out there? Fighting for their lives—for Hogwarts?

It didn't matter what her mother said. Ginny was absolutely certain, and nothing would sway her: she was going to Hogwarts. She was joining Dumbledore's Army, and she didn't care how much her mother tried to stop it: she was going to fight.

This was her war.

And she had to fight it.

A sound startled her from her thoughts. A gentle creak from that one stair, then quiet, soft footsteps.

"Ginny?"

Her father.

She glared at the door silently.

A sigh.

"Ginny, dear, I'm so, so, sorry for this. I know how hard it is for you. But I work at the Ministry, and believe me when I say you don't want to be out there. You're safe here.

Your mother, Ginny, she loves you so much—we both do. We can't risk your life. I'm sorry."

There was a pause, as if he was waiting for her to say something. Which wasn't happening.

With every word, Ginny only seemed to get more and more angrier. _Does he really think telling me about how dangerous it is, is going to_ keep _me from going? My friends are out there; the more dangerous it is, the more I_ want _to go._

She knew that it was dangerous.

And that was the reason she _had_ to do it.

She remained silent, looking at the crack on the bottom of the door and the two shadows of her father's feet, until, with another sigh, they faded away with quiet footsteps.

When those too faded into silence, Ginny's jaw set with determination. _They can't stop me,_ she thought, her stubbornness rearing up. She was going, no matter what it took.

The rest of the night passed quickly through Ginny's slumber. In the morning she woke in a cold sweat, twisted in her duvet, hair clinging to her tear-streaked face. Flashes of jet-green light and screamed curses, her friends falling onto blood-splattered grounds.

And although she knew it was just a nightmare, just her overactive imagination, she also knew that if this war inevitably continued on, and without her fighting alongside them, it would no longer be just a dream.

Morning was passed in a gloomy silence. Her parents shared worried glances, each convincing the other they were doing the right thing. Ginny sat in the middle, stirring her porridge so furiously it nearly spilled, refusing to look at her parents, to even acknowledge either one of them.

When her breakfast was finished, Ginny stood swiftly to exit this uncomfortable scene, eager to return to the comfort and safety of her room, to tune in to Potterwatch once more. Her parents glanced up quickly, and just as quickly looked back down. They showed no sign of trying to stop her.

As she walked out of the kitchen, wanting to stomp but forcing her feet to pad gently along the wood, her eyes swept across the space in front of the door.

There. That cabinet.

She knew her parents. She knew their tricks, their hiding places, much better than they thought she did.

There was a small lock on the handle.

"It's a muggle lock," a voice came from behind her.

Ginny didn't turn around.

"You can't smash it open, and you don't have your wand. I have the key, and I won't let you have it." The voice was heavy, filled with sorrow, but also firm.

Ginny stood there for another second, and then turned and pounded up the stairs.

She felt frustration so thick it threatened to overflow, to break down the wall she hammered over her emotions. Her footsteps echoed through the small house (a goddamn prison, she thought bitterly) and pierced the palpable silence of the three Weasleys. She wanted to scream, to cry, to lash out, for this complete and utter unfairness.

But soon her face hardened. If they thought that was going to stop her, they were dead wrong.

Despite everything, a smirk spread across her face. She had learned more than just pranks from Fred and George.

Quietly so that her parents wouldn't hear, she began searching her room for hair pins.

* * *

Neville pressed his ear against the cold wall, straining to catch words, until he realised that he was indeed a wizard. He pulled out his wand and murmured a quick spell. The words came to life, and as they floated into his ears and took shape as thoughts, he stumbled back a little, perhaps from shock—he wasn't sure.

"Potter, in Hogsmeade." A voice—McGonagall.

"Potter? Hogsmeade? Are you sure, Minerva?"

"Very. Severus—Headmaster Snape that is—will want to search the school soon. It would most likely be the place Harry would return to, but how, I'm not sure," McGonagall said, her voice hushed, and Neville thought he heard it tremble slightly.

"Yes, you've got a very good point," Flitwick replied, and Neville didn't need to hear any more.

He fled down the hallway under a Disillusion Charm, still wary of his surroundings. Once he reached the two large doors of the Room of Requirement, the entrance welcomed him in, and—

_BANG._

A spell to his right went off, and an efflorescence amount of red dust exploded in the room, temporarily masking his vision with abundant sources of _bright._

"What in Merlin's Beard is going on—"

He was interrupted by a tackling hug from Luna that nearly sent him crashing him to the ground.

"Whoa, what's up?" he said, hugging her back instinctively, slightly confused and startled by the sudden affection.

The smoke slowly disappeared after a couple of seconds and he gave a good look around.

 _There's a lot of people,_ was his first thought, as his eyes scanned the filled room. _Way more than usual._ One, two, three, he counted, and lost track at fifteen students as they bustled around. There must've been at least twenty-five, probably more.

Lavender, Padma, Parvati, Terry, Seamus, Dean—the whole group. And more; he saw graduated students as well: Oliver, Fred, George, Lee, Bill, Charlie, Angelina, Katie Bell, and Alicia.

Neville scanned the crowds further, and his eyes caught on an unmistakable mop of bright red hair. She was in the back, the reason why he did not see her until now, but she was steadily making her way to the front of the crowd. Her eyes looked up and caught Neville's, and a brilliant grin appeared on her face. _Ginny?_

"Merlin! You're all here!" he exclaimed, unable to keep in the shock, relief, and joy coursing through him.

"Of course we are! Dumbledore's Army, aren't we?" Fred rang out, and choruses of voices could be heard, all echoing Fred's words. Wands raised in the air as spells were shouted, sending sparks of light up in the air.

Neville ran up and hugged Ginny, who returned it with equal force. As he pulled away, he raised up his wand and whispered "Lumos." A tiny, nearly miniscule sparkling dot of light sprang from the tip of his wand and glittered into the roof of the Room of Requirement.

"Glad you're back," said Neville.

"Glad to be here." She gave him a smile, and a thumbs up.

He gave one back.

* * *

There was a quiet scuffling, a quick snapped argument, and three sharp raps on the door.

"Come in," said Rabastan, mentally preparing himself for speaking to the two most infuriating and idiotic people he knew.

"Good evening, Mr. Lestrange," said Amycus, immediately opening the door, stumbling but catching himself, standing in front of him with a deep bow.

"Yes, yes, a lovely evening, Mr. Lestrange, indeed," Alecto responded, entering right after with a glare to the other, bowing just as deeply.

"What brings you here?" Rabastan said stonily, steadily. "My time is not to be wasted. You have five minutes to give me your supposed 'extremely important news', and then you will be leaving immediately."

The two siblings blinked, then nodded vigorously. "Yes, of course, Mr. Lestrange," they said together.

"It seems—" Amycus said.

"There has—" Alecto said at the same time.

They stopped and glared at one another. There was a pause as they held out this staring contest. Rabastan gritted his teeth and tried not to gnash them.

"Ginny Weasley—" they simultaneously said.

Amycus groaned. "Alecto, could you possibly be more of an idiot?"

Alecto barked out a laugh. "I don't know about me, but I'm sure there's no way you could."

"Both of you, shut up." Rabastan tried not to let the disgust and annoyance show on his face. Merlin, those two. The Carrows were by far the worst Death Eaters he had ever seen.

He wished to cast them away from his office at once, but there was an alarming stutter in his heart at the mention of _Ginny Weasley_. He took a deep breath, then pointed to Alecto. "You. Speak."

"Yes, Mr. Lestrange," she replied sweetly, giving her brother a smug smirk. Rabastan almost regretted choosing her, but then again, the other wouldn't've responded any differently, either.

"Ginny Weasley," she said smoothly, "has been spotted at Hogwarts."

Rabastan tried to keep his face impassive, but he felt his heart stutter once more. "That is impossible," he said, voice steely. "Mrs. Weasley has returned to her home with her parents. She is forbidden to return."

"You see, Mr. Lestrange," Amycus jumped in, "she—"

"Can you be quiet?!" Alecto snarled, turning on her brother.

"I don't know, can _you?"_ Rabastan said coldly. Alecto gaped at him. He ignored her and turned to Amycus. "You. Speak." he massaged his forehead, feeling a headache rising up. "And make it quick."

"Yes, Mr. Lestrange, of course, Mr. Lestrange," Amycus said feverishly. _Please stop saying_ Mr. Lestrange, Rabastan thought desperately. It was making him hate it.

"Mr. Lestrange," Amycus immediately followed (Rabastan wanted to cry). "It seems as if Ginny has somehow returned."

"Oh, really now," Rabastan muttered, feeling the headache amplify.

Amycus nodded. "She has been spotted multiple times at Hogwarts."

"Alright." Rabastan sighed with a sort of forlorn acceptance. "How?"

"Er—" Amycus stopped talking, and for once, Alecto didn't pick up.

Rabastan looked at the two in disbelief. He groaned. _Must I do everything myself?_

"You may leave now," he said, consciously taking in deep breaths in order to restrain himself from punching both of those complete imbeciles. _Please,_ he added silently.

"Yes, Mr. Lestrange," Alecto said, sounding a bit relieved, bowing again and hurrying to the exit.

"Of course, Mr. Lestrange," Amycus said, following the other.

I really do hate that name now, Rabastan thought.

"Find out what they're planning," he added, and immediately wished he didn't, as 1. they wouldn't be able to anyway, and 2. It would mean he'd have to see them again.

"And close the door on your way out."

"Yes, Mr. Lestrange," they said together.

The door shut, and Rabastan felt as if the sky had just been lifted from his chest.

He settled down into a chair, and, as he thought of the very little information he had gotten from those two, felt a bit of that sky settle back down.

"Ginny Weasley," he murmured. "You just can't seem to say away from trouble, can you?" He sighed. "Very well. I gave you a chance."

The war was brewing, bubbling away steadily. It was a matter of weeks, days even. He'd have an ample chance then. Perhaps now she was a big nuisance, an important role—but really, in the war? In all the chaos, in all the fighting, she was just another person.

Just a quick little spell, and she'd be gone.

"Shame," he mused. "You could've made an excellent Death Eater."

* * *

"So," said Ginny with a beam that stretched her entire face, "what'd I miss?"

Neville laughed with delight and—he couldn't help it—hugged her again.

"A lot," he said seriously. "But we'll catch you up."

Ginny smiled, then turned to Luna, who was standing by the side, watching the two with a melancholy look.

"Hey, Luna," she called out, holding out her arms. "Come here. It's good to see you again."

Luna's face brightened, and in an instant she was engulfed in a hug.

"Oh, Ginny, I thought you left us!" she exulted. "I thought you were gone!"

"Me?" Ginny laughed. "I wouldn't dare. Now, let's go somewhere quiet and you two can catch me up."

Neville raised an eyebrow. "No can do," he said with a shrug. "We've hid in here for over a week now. If you wanna go out there—" he jabbed a thumb towards a pair of large double doors—"you gotta be invisible, fast, and very, very, quiet."

"Wow." Ginny raised her eyebrows and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. "I really did miss a lot."

Suddenly Lavender appeared in front of the three. "Ginny!" she gave her a quick hug. "I'm so glad you're back. We're going to need your help if we want to win this war."

"War," Ginny muttered, feeling the word resonate through her, sending a shiver down her spine. "Guess we're really doing this, huh?"

"Yes," said Neville, his face hard. "They've forced our hand. We can't stand back anymore. We're all training, Ginny—we're all preparing for war. We have to."

Suddenly, he turned to a table beside them. He clapped his hands and them cupped them over his mouth.

"Dumbledore's Army!" he shouted.

Slowly, then all at once, the bustling room quieted, turning to look at Neville. Ginny did the same, watching the wizard with awe. Merlin, she thought, feeling both pride, and a hint of envy. He radiated confidence.

Neville looked at her, and extended a hand. Ginny, feeling a hint of apprehension, took it gingerly, and stood up on the table alongside him.

"Ginny has returned to help us fight!" Neville shouted.

A cheer went up the crowd and Ginny looked down at her feet, blushing.

Neville smiled at her, then turned to the crowd, his face turning solemn once again.

"Thank you all, everyone, for joining D.A. We wouldn't have accomplished this much, if it weren't for each and every one of you. However, our work isn't done yet—not even close.

"The war is coming. We have trained and prepared for months leading up to this, and as it draws closer, we must not be afraid. This war, and anything that happens from it, is not our fault. It is _theirs_ —the Death Eaters, the traitors, the ones who have joined with Voldemort."

Ginny looked at Neville in shock, feeling her heart plummet with fear.

Neville looked back with a grim expression. "It is only a name," he said softly. "They can't do anything about it anymore."

"This war," he continued, voice loud once again, "must be fought. We must fight back, against the tyranny and unfairness of it all. We must fight for the lives of our family, the lives of our friends, the ones we love, and most importantly, we must fight for ourselves. Fight for your rights! Fight for what you believe in!

"Fight for Hogwarts, and fight—for—Dumbledore!"

"FOR DUMBLEDORE!" the room roared, pumping their fists up in the air, jumping up, cheering for Dumbledore's Army.

Ginny was quiet the entire speech. She had looked at Neville, listening to his words, with complete wonder. This man, she thought. This man was no longer the timid little boy she protected from the world. Neville Longbottom had grown up.

She didn't know whether to be happy or sad.

But the war was coming, and she didn't have time to think about these things, these little matters of pride and protectiveness. A war was coming, and they had to fight. Everyone was changing, but they had to fight.

So she raised her fists up in the air, she looked at Dumbledore's Army in all its glory, she breathed in the air, alight with adrenaline and energy, and she cheered for fighting, she cheered for her friends, family, and loved ones, she cheered for Dumbledore and she cheered for herself.

* * *

The picture frame on the wall appeared to be empty, but now, a small white dot appeared in the centre. Neville watched with bated breath as, slowly, a woman with blond braided hair came into view.

"Ariana?" Neville breathed out. She nodded.

"He's here."

Neville had to restrain himself from jumping up and punching his fists in the air. Instead, a wide beam broke through his haggard and worn face. "Let's go."

The portrait swung open and he entered through.

As they walked, Neville saw a small speck in the distance, which grew bigger and bigger, until it was unmistakably the outline of a boy. A boy with scruffy black hair and, as he got closer, glasses and a lightning bolt scar.

Neville began striding, faster and faster, until he broke into a run and nearly toppled out of the frame.

" _Harry Potter!"_ he shouted gleefully. "I knew you'd come—it was just a matter of time." He seized him by the elbow and led him into the secret tunnel.

His heart was pounding in his ears as he told Harry about all the plans they had made. It was really happening, wasn't it? Harry Potter was here. It had begun.

* * *

"Here it is." Luna nodded and gestured to Rowena Ravenclaw, a bit too excitedly. Not like she didn't have a reason to. Harry Potter was _right there_ , back, alive and well.

Harry moved closer to the statue, and studied the diadem carefully. Luna studied Harry carefully, joy bursting at the seams, because she had helped Harry Potter, and they were _friends._ She had friends—lots of friends.

"What are you two doing here?"

Luna jerked. She spun backwards, and saw none other than Alecto Carrow, standing in the doorway, her mouth twisted in a sick grin and her wand pointing straight at them.

Her heart plummeted. Her feet were frozen to the ground.

Alecto sneered. "My Lord will praise me greatly for this," she said with a gleam in her eye. She pulled up her sleeve.

One beat, one second, and Luna was propelled into motion; her hand flew to her wand and she jabbed it straight at Alecto, her lips moved on their own accord.

" _Stupefy!"_

Alecto fell to the floor, her robe arm still pulled up, showing that dreadful Dark Mark. Luna shuddered.

"What is all this?"

Two others pounded into the room.

Luna blinked, faintly registering the new arrivals' talking, and Harry responding. Her heart was too loud in her ears, drowning out her surroundings. She looked at Alecto in a daze.

_I helped._

And suddenly, despite the war that was already in motion, despite everything, she was beaming.

* * *

" _Hogwarts is threatened! Man the boundaries, protect us, do your duty to our school!"_

 _Yes,_ thought Ginny, fear and joy and adrenaline coursing through her veins. She raised her wand, to help, to _fight_ —

Someone gripped her arm.

"Where," hissed a voice in her ear, "do you think you're going?"

Ginny turned, and what she saw made her thoughts stop dead in their tracks.

" _Mum?!"_

Her mother stood right in front of her, her hair a mess, her eyes red and furious. "You're not going out there," she said in a low voice, shaking her head violently.

Ginny tried to speak several times before succeeding.

"I'm sorry. I have to." She reached out a hand to pry the fingers off her forearm, but the grip only tightened, knuckles whitening, to the point where it hurt.

" _No!"_ her mother's voice became shrill, desperate. "Ginny Weasley, you are my daughter, and you will listen to me. You are underage. _You will not fight!"_

" _I can and I will!"_ Ginny screamed.

A crowd was gathering around them, and they broke out in worried, hushed murmurs.

"Ginny." A tear slipped down her mother's face. "Ginny, please. If you—if anything, _anything,_ happened to you—" she choked up. Her hands moved to her eyes, releasing Ginny's arm.

Ginny froze, then she was gathering her mother up in her arms, hugging her fiercely.

"Oh, mum."

"I don't want to lose you," her mother whispered.

"I know. I'm sorry." Ginny closed her eyes.

"Please don't go."

"I…"

Her mother drew back now, and placed her hands on Ginny's shoulders. Her eyes were still wide and full of alarm, but they had lost that touch of wildness in them.

"I know I can't get you to come back with me," she said with a sorrowful smile. "But, please, please… stay in the Room of Requirement. Please, Ginny. For me."

Ginny pressed her lips tightly together and wrung her hands. She looked at the crowd of people, rushing out the door, wands drawn and prepared for battle, prepared to fight for Hogwarts, for themselves, for everyone.

Then she looked at her mother. Her mother, eyes filled with tears that were even now still dripping down her cheeks, her gaze filled with pleading and worry and love.

She dropped her head. "Okay."

She heard a sharp intake of breath, and then it was her mother who was taking Ginny in her arms.

"Oh, my darling," she murmured. "Thank you."

Ginny felt her eyes burn and well up with tears. She clung on to her mother.

A second later, this moment was interrupted by a hiss that echoed through the building.

_I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter, and they shall not be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight._

Ginny pulled back with eyes wide with alarm. Her mother gasped and looked around, seeing nothing that could've said that message.

"You need to go, mum," Ginny said. "I'll stay in the Room of Requirement."

Her mother nodded, gave Ginny one last hug, and disappeared.

Ginny took a deep breath, climbed onto a table, and began searching the crowd. There was one last thing she needed to do.

After a minute of searching, she found her—blond braids and a butterfly bow, baby blue dress, marching with the crowd.

She jumped off the table and made her way towards Elizabeth.

"Hey." Ginny touched the girl's arm. The girl saw Ginny and put on a smile.

"Hi, Ginny. Ready to fight?" She raised her wand.

"Elizabeth…" Ginny felt a heaviness in her heart, and felt a stab of sympathy for her mother. "You can't go out there."

There was a stunned silence.

"You can't be serious." Elizabeth laughed incredulously. "This is our war. I'm going to fight."

"You can't." Ginny bit her lip. "It's too dangerous—hell, even I'm not going."

"What?" Elizabeth gaped, and then her face turned hard. "You can stay and hide if you want. I'm fighting."

Ginny made a noise of frustration as she studied the girl, who was even younger than her, for Merlin's sake: her eyes were icy blue and unwavering, the look of a person who would not listen to anyone, no matter what they said.

It was a sharp, painful reminder of herself.

Ginny took a deep breath and looked away. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered, mostly to herself, and looked back to Elizabeth.

"You have your coin?" she asked.

Elizabeth cocked her head with confusion, then nodded and pulled it out of her pocket. "What about it?"

"If you get hurt, if you get scared, out there… use your coin to tell me. I'll find you."

"Alright." Elizabeth shrugged, and pocketed the coin. "Well, I'm going to go now. I'll see you later, Ginny—either during or after the war." She smiled again, and this time, Ginny saw the flicker of fear and apprehension that she tried to hard to conceal.

Suddenly, she felt a wave of motherly affection for the young girl, and she pulled her into a hug.

"I'll see you," Ginny said, and hoped that it would be true.

* * *

_Ginny!_

The word slowly floated up on her coin. Ginny stared at it and felt her heart sink to her stomach.

_Ginny, help!_

With shaking fingers Ginny pulled out her wand and pointed it at the coin. _Where are you?_ she thought desperately.

_The entrance of the Forbidden Forest. I'm surrounded_

and then the words disappeared.

Feeling her mind slowly winding into a panic, Ginny pressed her palms into her eyes and took a deep breath. _I'm sorry, Mum._

She ran out the door.

Chaos surrounded her, muffled her thoughts and jammed her senses. Spells shot back and forth, people and creatures everywhere, rubble and fire splattering across a bloody battlefield.

Ginny ignored this all, and ran straight to the Forbidden Forest.

She choked out a gasp as she saw her.

"Elizabeth." It came out as a horrified whisper.

The girl lay across the entrance of the forest. Her hair was matted with blood, her clothes marked with scorch stains, one arm dangling over her body. Her wand was on the ground.

Ginny collapsed beside her, murmuring shaky spells and conjuring damp rags.

She was breathing, that much was sure. Her pulse was racing, but that was much better than none at all. And as Ginny gently wiped her face, her eyelids fluttered weakly and a moan escaped her lips.

"Shh." Ginny smoothed back her hair. "You're okay, you're going to be just fine."

Her fingers twitched. "Ginny?" Elizabeth whispered, barely audible.

"Yes," Ginny said back, "I'm here." She moved Elizabeth into a sitting position, and hugged her, painfully gentle, terrified of hurting her any more.

"Sorry," Elizabeth mumbled. "I wanted to help."

"You did," Ginny said fiercely. "You helped, Elizabeth, you helped us, and we're going to win this war."

"Mother," Elizabeth said weakly. "I want my mother."

Ginny let out a quiet sob and pressed her cheek into the young girl's hair.

A sharp bang and a cry of pain echoed somewhere to her right, but she didn't notice.

Ginny gently untangled herself from the younger girl. "You'll see your mother again. Come on, let's get you out of here."

She tugged Elizabeth up, allowing her to lean her full weight onto her. Murmuring a spell under her breath that she should've said a long time ago, a light green force field appeared around them.

They made her way back to the castle.

All around them, the war raged on.

* * *

Chaos. That was the only word to describe it.

Logan weaved through the crowds, stepping over rubble and occasionally bodies, unconscious or dead, he wasn't sure. He shot spells, he dodged jets of red and green. His head was throbbing and his heart was pounding as he fought his way through the battlegrounds of Hogwarts.

He crossed a bridge and watched as Neville fought a group of snatchers by collapsing the bridge they were on. He hurried over, and, along with others, helped him up. Logan didn't have time to do anything else—he gave him a brisk nod and continued on his way.

After a brief battle with a Death Eater that ended with the latter falling to the ground, Logan quickly healed his arm that the Death Eater had gotten a hit on, and allowed himself five seconds to scan the scenes in front of the Forbidden Forest.

He saw Ginny Weasley, her flaming red hair falling across her face as she embraced a limp, blond girl—Elizabeth, Logan realised with a pang.

Then something prickled in his mind, an intuition that shifted his eyes to the two girls' left.

Rabastan stood in the open, a smirk curling across his face, his wand pointing straight to Ginny.

Logan saw his lips move, form the words that made the Killing Curse.

The redhead was too far away for Logan to reach.

His wand was in his hand, but didn't have enough time.

The Killing Curse is known for many things. The name gives much away, of course, but there is a reason it is one of the Unforgivable Curses.

Once it is shot, once the caster's words are out of their lips, it cannot be stopped. There is no counter-charm, no deflection, that can stop it.

That said, there is one thing.

Logan didn't think, didn't stop to reason out what he was doing. His legs were moving automatically, gaining speed, until he was sprinting towards the jet of green.

The curse hits him perfectly in the chest.

He cries out and collapses to the ground. The last thing he sees is Rabastan's face, full of shock. It gives him some pleasure.

His vision fades to black, and Logan Erudia joins his family in heaven, praying that Ginevra Weasley will forgive him for all he has done.


	27. Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the battle leaves both reunions and losses.

The hall seemed eerily quiet compared to the screams, shouts, and sobs of battle. People grieving, healing, and resting.

She would not forget this, she knew. She _could not_ forget this.

How everything was well—until it wasn't. She would promise that she was not to forget anything. If she did, the deaths of those she loved would have been in vain. Her children would be told the same horrible story, and their children would be, and so forth.

They would not forget, she vowed.

They will not be forgotten.

She will remember—the memory of Harry Potter, limp in Rubeus Hagrid's arms, burned into her mind.

Blood, scars, and death.

It will never be forgotten.

They will never have to know what it took to build this world, but they will never forget, and the Battle of Hogwarts, 1998, will never fade.

This will be their story to tell—this story of hatred, revenge, and death. It is a story of power, skill, and determination. Of loyalty, hope, and love. It is a story that they will tell, with every gory detail, deathly mind, and broken dreams. They will learn of everything that was put to risk, played out on the field, and they will know how much it cost. They will know that it cost too much, and those that paid the price will never be forgotten. None of it ever will.

This will be their story to keep alive, and this will be the story they _must_ keep alive—if it dies, the cost paid will too, and people will have died for nothing.

They _must_ remember.

She pushed her way to the middle of the crowd, almost subconsciously, and the crowd parted for her.

In the centre of it all was Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.

He was scarred, splattered with blood, and weariness seemed to radiate off of him.

Like the rest of them, too much of them.

Witches and wizards all around were hushed, watching. Ginny's mouth opened, the name on her tongue, but the moment he turned, fixing those bright green tired eyes on hers, the words stuck and refused to come. She stood, frozen, suddenly acutely aware of her mud-and-twig riddled hair, her rumpled and torn clothes.

She had not seen those eyes for a long time. She had not seen him—truly seen him—for a very long time.

Not since that kiss, the one in her small bedroom she called home, with a broken relationship on the tip of his tongue, and proud eyes.

And then Harry said, "Ginny?" and all of a sudden she was stepping closer, her body moving without her mind's command, and in another second Harry was doing the same, and they found themselves in each other's arms.

It felt like home. It felt like peace.

She didn't know when or how, but she found herself burying her face in his chest, her eyes squeezed shut and leaking tears onto his shirt.

His hand rested on her head, gently combing, untangling, playing with her hair.

"Harry," she whispered. "Harry."

"Ginny," Harry mumbled into her ear, and Ginny clung on tighter, instinct taking over and evaporating her pride. She was exhausted, she finally realised. Her eyelids were heavy and her limbs felt like wood, and all she wanted to do was to disappear into Harry's arms and stay there.

They were surrounded by battered and bruised teenagers who have just fought in a war, killed people, seen others killed. The air was tinted with the sharp copper sting of blood, and the cries and shouts still lingered. But through it all, Harry still held Ginny tight, and this was their home. This was their hope. Their constant, bridging them between two worlds. As their lips met, and as her hands were in his hair, and his on her back, she let herself go.

Their mouths crashed, and Ginny couldn't get enough—of Harry, of peace, of love.

Of their constant.

When they pulled apart, she let herself remain in his comforting arms, and for a moment, she let herself believe it was worth it all.

* * *

"Miss. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, giving her a polite nod.

"Professor," she replied, and gave her a quick look over—had her professor made it out alright?

Her robes were torn and tattered, as they all were, and a long gash had been cut into her cheek. As she walked closer to Ginny, she noticed that she was limping. Badly.

"Are you alright?" she questioned again, reaching an arm out, grabbing McGonagall by the shoulder.

"Fine, fine." She paused. "Grab that book, please," she said, her voice flat, pointing at a textbook sitting beside a lone stretcher. Ginny nodded, and grabbed it quickly.

She watched as her professor nearly collapsed onto the ground, and swallowed.

_She couldn't be that hurt, could she?_

"What would you like me to do?" she asked, as McGonagall pulled down her collar, showing a large, purplish bruise from jawline to shoulder. Ginny gasped, and the professor winced.

"Open the book please, and you should be able to flip to the fourth chapter—fixing bones," she said, and Ginny felt like she was in transfiguration class again. She rushed through the pages, and true to McGonagall's words, the pages bore intensive paragraphs on mending human bones.

Professor McGonagall glanced down, and pointed to the middle of the page.

"This one should do," she said, her voice calm, as though she hadn't just instructed a student, one with barely any study in the healing department, on how to fix her collarbone. Anything could go wrong; in fact, it had a relatively high chance of going wrong.

"Are you sure Professor? Shouldn't you be seeing a healer for this?" she shakily replied.

"There are those who need much more medical than I do, and I have full confidence of your abilities."

Ginny raised her wand, her hand wavering.

" _Brackium Emendo,"_ she said, loudly and clearly, and the professor relaxed significantly as the large bruise disappeared. She rolled her shoulder, rubbing a hand over it, and a small sigh came from her lips.

"Thank you, Miss. Weasley," she said earnestly. "Thank you, for everything."

Ginny suddenly felt very awkward—what was she supposed to say to that?

"No problem Professor. Glad you made it out," she joked, flashing her a smile. Professor McGonagall gave a small laugh, and it sounded like she meant it.

"I'm glad you made it out, Miss. Weasley," she said, this time seriously. Then, she got up, and walked into the crowd.

Ginny gave a small smile, and waved a hand at her retreating figure, and although her professor could not hear her now:

"Thank you."

* * *

"Ginny!"

Turning around, Ginny saw Padma rushing towards her.

"Hey, Padma," she said casually.

Slowing to a walk on her final steps towards her, Padma put her hands on her knees and looked up at Ginny. "I need to tell you something," she said, the words clambering, rushing out.

Ginny cocked her head. "Alright."

Padma opened her mouth—and then looked away. She bit her lip and lowered her eyes.

Ginny felt the slightest bit of worry rise in her. "What's up?" she asked dubiously.

"That… the Slytherin who joined D.A," Padma answered, haltingly. "Started with an L, Loran or—"

"Logan," finished Ginny immediately. She leaned closer, eyes wide. She felt her heart beginning to beat faster. "What about him? Where is he?"

Padma suddenly stopped. She stumbled back and raised a hand to her mouth. She turned away. "I…"

Ginny closed the space between them again. "Tell me," she demanded. "What happened to Logan?"

After a long pause, Padma looked into Ginny's eyes, and they were full of tears. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Ginny's heart was pounding. "How? Where?" she stammered.

Padma blanched.

"Tell me!" she yelled, shaking Padma by the shoulders. Padma's eyes widened even more, and her bottom lip quivered. Ginny hesitated, then sighed. "I'm sorry—I just—"

Padma nodded, and took a deep breath, seemed to steel herself.

"He—" Padma put her face in her hands. "Rabastan had his wand aimed at you, Ginny! When you were with Elizabeth, and Logan saw and ran and—" She gulped. "I'm sorry, Ginny, I'm so sorry. I know that you were close friends—"

But the rest of her words were lost.

Ginny's head was spinning and the world seemed to be turning around and around. _Logan?_ Why would he…

 _He betrayed you,_ hissed a voice in her ear. _He stabbed you in the back. You should be happy he's dead._

But he died for _her?_ He ratted her out, and then gave his life for her's? Somehow, that made it much, much worse.

 _Logan had died for her,_ she thought, the truth sinking in.

She pressed her fingers into her eyes, hard, tried to block out her thoughts, that voice in her head, nagging and mocking, but, now, about something different: _you did this, you did this to Logan and he's_ dead _because of_ you _and it's_ all your fault—

"No!"

There must be something missing. Padma saw someone else, that's all. Or, or—it was all an elaborate ruse, both Rabastan and Logan playing the game with Ginny. Or…

It could be a million other reasons. Logan simply could not have died for her.

Ginny spun around and ran.

It was all a blur, people and hallway walls, and then a pair of doors, and then she was outside the castle and running, running, running across the bridge, to the entrance of the Forbidden Forest.

There were no bodies, she knew. They had been all retrieved by the students and professors alike, for the families and the graves. She cast her gaze to where she and Elizabeth had been, and an echo of a memory flickered in her mind. Elizabeth, trembling in her arms—then there had been a strangled yell to her side.

But the rest was lost to panic, fear, and desperation.

She inhaled sharply, turned on one heel, and dashed back, running running running, and her mind didn't catch up with what his body was doing until she caught the glimpse of messy black hair, one person surrounded by dozens.

"Harry!"

Harry turned.

"I need a favour," Ginny said.

Harry tilted his head with furrowed brows. "What kind of favour?"

Ginny took a deep breath and raised her head. "I need to borrow the Resurrection Stone."

There it was, the millisecond after Ginny spoke, that flash of panic on Harry's face.

"I don't have it," he said slowly, and looked at Ginny with a blank look.

He was lying.

"How do you even know about it anyways?" Harry questioned, and Ginny looked down at the ground in embarrassment.

"Hermione," she mumbled, and Harry ran a hand through his hair, giving a loud sigh.

"I lost it—dropped it really. I don't know where it is," he said, and she thought his voice tremble a bit.

"You're lying." The conviction was strong, and Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and bit his lip.

"You're right," he began. "I have it. But I wish I didn't."

"I know what you're going to say," Ginny pleaded, "but trust me. I know, speaking to the dead doesn't help, it doesn't work, it will only make it worse—but I need to know something," she rambled. "Closure, something." Her voice started to shake. "Please, Harry," she begged, and Harry gave in.

He reached into his pocket. "I need it right back—it is powerful, and will harm you." Ginny nodded and Harry dropped a small, heavy stone into her open hand. "I don't suppose I can ask you what you're going to do with it?"

Ginny shook her head, and gave him a sad, slightly bitter smile.

"Thank you," she said. "Truly."

Harry gave her a sad look.

* * *

The evening air was brisk and cold on her face and a flurry of leaves swirled through the air. The ground squished beneath her shoes, and the trees towered over her, sending down an ominous glare.

An unmarked grave, but she knew its place.

This was it.

She took a deep breath and turned the stone thrice in her hand.

Each turn of the stone felt like changing the world.

There was a whisper of breath, the air fluttering around her, a sudden chill.

A boy with tousled blond hair and blue-grey eyes shimmered into view.

His clothes were tattered and torn, and he looked as though he had just been through battle.

 _So you live in death with what you die in,_ Ginny thought, and she had to stop the urge to give a small laugh.

They stood in silence for a moment. Logan looked at Ginny with an unreadable face. Ginny stared back, mouth open. The words had clambered in her mind on her way to the graveyard, but now, they seemed to get stuck in her throat.

She gulped, and was about to speak, until Logan beat her to it.

"It was Rabastan," Logan spoke up first. "He had my parents, Ginny, I swear."

"Your parents," Ginny repeated. She imagined her eyes the size of saucers.

"Yes. He captured them. He forced me to take you and Elizabeth, he said he'd kill them—" his voice broke, and Logan let out a sardonic laugh. "He did, anyways, even after I did everything he told me to."

"Oh, Logan…" Ginny put a hand over her mouth.

"It was him," Logan continued, almost babbling, "it was him, it was all him—he killed my parents and he—" Logan choked—"my mother, he—" he shook his head violently, unable to continue. "He tipped off the Carrows about you leaving Hogwarts with your mother—"

" _Him?"_ Ginny fought to understand the onslaught of new information flying her way. "It was him," she whispered.

"Rabastan," Logan confirmed, his head low.

Ginny wanted to scream, to kick, to curse and vow to kill Rabastan Lestrange on the spot. But when she searched inside her, all she found was exhaustion. A bitter, heady emptiness where rage had once been. She was so very tired.

"I was so stupid," Logan spat, "I believed he would let them go. I stabbed you in the back just for that little bit of hope that turned out to be a lie." He looked back up, and there were tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, forgive me, please, I didn't know."

"Don't be." Ginny took another step closer, a hand reaching out, almost on the other's shoulder but knowing that, even if it was, it would not touch. It would pass through, for they were in different worlds, and he would not be joining her's, and Ginny would not be joining his, not for a very long time. "I would've done the same. Anyone would've done the same. I forgive you. Of course I forgive you."

Logan blinked at her, and then his shoulders drooped, the tension seeping away. He swayed in the summer air. "Oh," he breathed out. "Thank you."

"I think I should be the one saying that." Ginny remembered the reason behind her visit. "Padma told me, she said she saw you…"

Logan nodded in affirmation. "You should have seen Rabastan's face. It was the most I could do." He smirked a bit.

But Ginny couldn't laugh. "I'm so sorry, Logan." And now she was the one rambling on, not even knowing precisely the thing she was apologising for: "You shouldn't have, I'm sorry, your parents, I didn't know—"

"It's alright," Logan cut in. "I'm with them now."

Ginny looked closer. Logan had a smile on his face, and his eyes were soft and so bright they seemed to shine out from the rest of his body. He was happy, Ginny realised, happier than she had ever seen him, and in an instant she felt something rising in her, she couldn't quite fathom what it was, but it was surging up and it overflowed. Jealously, she realised. Jealous—she was _jealous._

"But you're _dead!"_ burst out of her. "You're _dead!_ "

Logan raised an eyebrow. "I am well aware of that," he said coolly.

Ginny wrung her hands. "How can you be so calm about this? I—I treated you so horribly, I'm sorry, I didn't know, and you jumped in front of a spell for me! You died for me!"

"Well." Logan shrugged. "It's okay now. I'm reunited with my parents. You forgive me. I saved a life." The corner of his lip turned up. "I think I'm satisfied."

Ginny was quiet.

How could she respond to that?

To any of this?

"I have to go," Logan suddenly said. "It's dangerous to raise the dead for so long. To speak to them. To be with them." He looked reluctant, but determined. "Do not summon me again, Ginny. It will only make it worse."

Nodding, Ginny looked down at the stone in her hand, and then back up.

"Thank you, Logan. Thank you," Ginny said quietly. "Goodbye."

Logan smiled. "Goodbye, Ginny."

Edges hazy, colours fading—Logan forever disappeared from view.

Ginny stood at the graveyard of hundreds lost, all died for Hogwarts. Slipping the stone back into her pocket, she turned and walked away from it all.

* * *

_Rabastan Lestrange,_

_I will keep this short, not in the fear of wasting your time, but in that of wasting mine. I will not let you take up any more of my life. I hope you are enjoying life in Azkaban, and that this will reach you well._

_You captured the parents or Logan Erudia. For what? To watch him become a traitor? You killed his parents, even after he did what you asked. What satisfaction is there in knowing you have broken a promise?_

_You think you won, don't you? That you've successfully gone through with your plan, that you're superior? You're wrong._

_Logan loves his parents, so much so that he would follow your orders to the word. I bet his parents begged you not to hurt him. Logan loves, and he is loved. You? You have nothing. No one loves you, and you resort to these disgusting acts just so you feel worthy of something. You aren't._

_I won't bother naming every single horrible thing you have done. We would need a lot more paper. What you have done, to yourself, to others—I can only shake my head in pity. You have admirable power, strength, and skill. You could've had it all. But yet you threw it all away, again and again. And for that, I'm very, very sorry._

_To a better life,_

_Ginny._

_(Do not pity the dead. Pity the living, and most of all, pity those who live without love.)_

* * *

_Ten years later_

She was in a large, large room. The ceiling towered above her, and banners were strewn across the walls, green and black, emblazoned with a beautiful, elegant "M." _Malfoy,_ she thought. The windows outside revealed a tall fountain, spewing water.

Familiar—but not quite. Her hands were not bound, but free; and in the middle of the room:

"Well, well," said a voice, sickening sweet. "Look who it is."

A face she hadn't seen in years.

Amycus Carrow sat bound to a chair. His lips curled in a menacing snarl.

Her legs seemed to move on their own accord, and within seconds Ginny found herself a mere few feet away from the other. There was a dagger on the floor, she noticed.

A table sat beside it

She tilted her head. "This is quite interesting," she mused.

Amycus threw back his head and barked out a laugh. "Look at you," he mocked, "Older, are you, now? Ha! No more smarter, that's for sure. You wanted to fight, didn't you? You didn't help, you idiot, you killed Logan and hurt Elizabeth. You lied to your mother. You're pathetic, yo—"

Without thinking, Ginny reached out and slapped Amycus straight across the face.

A stinging resistance pained through her hand, but the feeling of a little revenge was to be relished.

Amycus seemed stunned for a moment, and then he laughed again. "Pathetic," he repeated, sing-song. "Stupid, stupid girl."

 _I'm not a girl,_ Ginny thought. _I'm not fifteen anymore, headstrong and scared._

Ginny bent over and picked up the knife. "Don't make me use this," she said quietly. The weapon felt powerful in her hand. Made her feel in control—of someone's life, someone's fate.

The handle rubbed against her palm, the feeling foreign.

Amycus sneered.

"Go ahead, you stupid girl," he spat, spittle landing on her shirt and onto the floor.

And something snapped. Ginny felt herself grin, impossibly wide.

"Oh, I will," she murmured, and raised the dagger, slowly pressing the tip against the prisoner's chin.

The skin grew pale with the pressure and Ginny pushed further, watching the blade dig in, to the point of breaking the barrier, letting out red, red, blood, almost, almost—

The realisation struck her so fast, so hard, it shattered her vision and roared in her ears, blindingly powerful and utterly devastating.

Ginny let out a single, broken cry. The knife dropped to the floor with a loud clatter, nearly hitting the table.

Clambering, staggering, stumbling away from the bound victim, Ginny raised a hand to her mouth. Her eyes burned and tears leaked out.

A flash, a memory, a recollection: for a split second, Ginny saw herself. Standing with a dagger to a man's neck, maniacal grin stretching her face.

She saw herself, and in that moment, she had been Amycus Carrow.

A sob escaping from trembling lips, Ginny turned around, meeting a pair of open doors, and she fled.

* * *

Her body gave a lurch, a sudden, abrupt jerk, into sharp, painful awareness.

Ginny gasped, eyelids fluttering, pulse thrumming in her ears. Her hands were gripping the edge of the duvet, white-knuckled and deathly tight.

Something stirred to her right.

"Ginny?" came a sleep-scratched voice. "You alright?"

Her breathing gradually coming down to a more normal pace, Ginny watched her fingers unfurl around the blanket, leaving a wrinkled edge.

"Yeah," she muttered. "M'alright. Just… bad dream."

There was only a humming noise in response. They both understood.

Ginny ran her thoughts through the scenario of which her subconscious had decided to dream up—ten years after the events that evidently lead to it.

Turning around so she was facing the other, Ginny could make out a faint outline of a face, tracings of his features. "Harry?" she asked quietly.

"Mm-hmm?"

"Do you—" Ginny swallowed, "Do you think, if you could—if you were—if you had the same powers as Voldemort, would you. Would you do… the same as he did?"

"Ginny." Harry's voice was still hushed, but urgent, tinged with alarm. "Would I be like him, you're asking?" His voice became harder, more fierce. "Would I kill an innocent little boy's parents just because I wanted to live longer? Would I do that?"

Ginny flinched and recoiled.

"Oh, Merlin, I didn't," she stammered, "I didn't mean it like—"

She bit her lip.

There was a pause, and then a sigh.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just, don't ever think like that. Voldemort had great power, and he abused it. He could've made a brilliant wizard, but he chose to turn to evil. He made a lot choices in his life, and I did too. Our choices took us different places—not our powers."

"I know," Ginny whispered. "I'm sorry."

Harry's eyes flickered up to meet hers: adjusted to the darkness by now, they were bright green and luminous, reflecting the thin sliver of moonlight that streaked through the crack in the curtains. His hair was mussed, falling down over his face, but Ginny could imagine, very nearly see, the pale lightning-bolt scar.

"You're alright?" he asked again, but softly, almost like an afterthought.

Ginny nodded. "Yeah," she responded once more. "I'm alright."

She hadn't been alright for a while, but yes. Ginny was alright. In this instant, Ginny was happy.

Smiling, Harry leaned in and gently kissed her, before closing his eyes, his breaths slowing and steadying.

Ginny held still for a moment, and then she turned around and went back to sleep.

_(We've all got light and dark inside of us. What matters is the part you choose to act on: that's who we really are.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go.  
> Today is the last scene in Harry Potter!   
> If anyone is reading this, thank you for seeing this story, that hasn't been updated in so, so, long, pop up, and deciding to click on it. Thank you <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! ~~We try to update every Monday, when possible.~~ hahaha we are so sorry  
>  It would mean the world to us if you review/kudos. The story gradually gets better, we promise!


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